A Night to Remember
by dedanaan
Summary: Answer to Maenad's WIKTT challenge. AU - The war is over and Voldemort and the Death Eaters have won. Severus is given a most unexpected gift. Chapter 13 added Sept 2004
1. A Night to Remember

All the usual disclaimers regarding Harry Potter and the gang being J.K. Rowling's property, etc. apply.

****

A Night to Remember

She sat, unmoving, in front of a mirror that paid her ridiculously inane praises. How could it say anything that would make her smile? And how could they think it would make a difference? She sighed long and deep, bracing herself against the pain that swept across her nerve endings. This was something she experienced every single time she steeled herself against the total obedience to the Death Eaters that was required from her by the Imperius curse. A curse laid upon her by both Draco Malfoy and his father, Lucius--Voldemort's right hand man--when she had been captured during the war. Her struggle was constant but she was getting better at resisting their double Imperius, inch by excruciating inch. 

How she hated them, and hated herself for not being able to move against them. If she could only get her hands on a wand, she'd hex the whole bloody lot of them to Kingdom Come, damn the consequences. Not that anyone had been stupid enough to let that happen... yet. Someday, she'd find a way to make every last one of them pay. She lowered her face perfunctorily in the direction of the beleaguered house elf who was fussing around her, working at healing and hiding the bruises that still lay around her left eye--a souvenir from last night's encounter with that bastard, Draco Malfoy. She sometimes wondered at the frequency of his visits. If she got paid for what they put her through, she'd have to admit he was her best customer. She sighed long and deep yet again and let the pain wash over her. 

"Please, Miss, don't anger them." the elf ventured timidly, her voice little more than a whisper. "You should listen to Milly……if you don't make them angry, then they won't hurt you." 

Hermione said nothing.

"She's right, you know," came a quiet voice from across the room, "when I stopped fighting it all became a lot easier." She turned to look at the sallow, haunted young woman who had been--except for that brief but wondrous period during seventh year when Hermione had been Head Girl and rated her own space--her roommate since she was eleven. A person who had shared the journey with her from innocence to this unfortunate life.

"Thanks for the words of advice. I'll keep that in mind." Hermione's reply was flat. She supposed for a moment that it was just as hard, if not harder for Lavender, being one of the few non-muggleborn prisoners here. Lavender had been unfortunate enough to insult Malfoy Junior just days before the war began in earnest, and so had shared Hermione's fate. 

***

"I'm not happy at all with this, I'll have you know. Not one bit." the man complained sourly, leaning back in his chair.

"If you don't go, it will be even more suspicious. All the Death Eaters will be there, you can hardly not show up. You don't turn down an invitation to a dark revel, especially one being held on Samhain Night…" he stopped to take a breath before continuing, "especially when you're considered to be a member of their inner circle. And besides, how else will we know what they're up to if you're not there?" Harry Potter responded in what he hoped was a reasonable voice. He thought it was strange that he'd be the one doing the cajoling, but since Dumbledore's death, it had fallen upon his shoulders. Leading the resistance against the regime of Voldemort was a lot to ask of someone who had just turned 19 a few months before, especially when all their information on the Death Eaters and their activities was funneled through this lone source--Severus Snape--a man who absolutely despised him. "We need you to do this, Headmaster."

Professor Snape had been installed as Headmaster of Hogwarts, charged with ensuring the children received the education laid out by Voldemort in the revised curriculum--a curriculum that no longer included classes called Muggle Studies or Defense Against the Dark Arts. Muggleborns were no longer admitted to the school and the children already enrolled were watched rather closely by the new Board of Education. Half the teachers were new and therefore not worthy of trust. It was definitely a police state. 

And even now, after all this time and all these changes, he was a spy--a mole. " I know," he conceded after a few minutes, "but that doesn't mean I have to like any of it."

And so, Severus Snape found himself cleaned up and wearing his best dress robes, walking to the gates of Hogwarts so he could apparate to Malfoy Manor.

***

"Ah, come in Severus." Lucius Malfoy's greeting to Snape, who was being shown through the doors of his study, was almost congenial. 

"Lucius." Snape rejoined. Malfoy gestured to a chair and Snape sat, poised on the edge of the seat like he was sitting on a razor blade, not allowing himself to get comfortable. He waited for a moment expecting Malfoy to speak, but he didn't. "Why haven't I been shown directly to the revel? I am sure Lord Voldemort would not like to be kept waiting."

"You'll see the Dark Lord in time." Malfoy waved his protest away and continued, "He's worried about you, you know. We weren't even sure you'd show up tonight." Snape quirked an eyebrow and Lucius smiled. "Yes, you've been working really hard and according to all our reports, you hardly ever socialize any more--not that you were ever the social butterfly, mind you."

"Running that menagerie takes all of my time and attention," Snape glared and snapped back in response, "not to mention all the extra-curricular potions work that's required of me."

"Tsk! You seem short-tempered, even for you. All work and no play makes Severus a dull boy, you know." Lucius clucked his tongue against his teeth. "I think Lord Voldemort's right, you need to relax and I've got just the thing." He steepled his fingers in front of his face and smiled, but it was not a pleasant smile. Snape narrowed his eyes suspiciously, waiting for Lucius to continue. Malfoy stood up and walked to the fireplace, which was blazing away merrily. As he reached up to the mantle to take down an ornate box, he spoke over his shoulder to his guest. "Well, are you coming?"

"Where are we going?" Severus asked, slowly making his way across the room to stand stiffly next to Malfoy.

"To help you relax." Malfoy replied, cutting Snape off as he opened his mouth to speak. "Dark Lord's orders, so there's no use protesting." He took a pinch of floo powder out of the box and tossed it into the flames. "Brothel." he spoke, and the flames flared green. 

"After you." He stood back and let a surprised Snape go first. Since when had there been a brothel linked into the Death Eater Floo Network? Was he that out of the loop? 

***

Another house elf suddenly materialized in the room where Hermione and Lavender were being prepared for that night's entertainment. Both girls felt ill to the pits of their stomachs but said nothing to acknowledge him. Whenever this particular house elf paid them a visit, pain and degradation usually followed within the hour. In his hands were bundles of velvet and leather and lace. "You must wear these." the elf directed as he set down the pile on a chair. "Then the master would like you, Miss Hermione, to wait in the green room for tonight's visitor, and you, Miss Lavender, to wait in the black room." He disappeared without another word, not expecting disobedience. And he would get none. They were both compelled to do as they were told, even if it was just by an elf delivering a message. The Imperius they were under saw to that.

Hermione held up various bits and pieces of clothing and snorted. "Here we go again, Lavender, the S&M dream girls." She thought it extremely funny that they were usually dressed in one variation or another of the run-of-the mill dominatrix outfit. Didn't Death Eaters have any imagination? The thought triggered white-hot blades of pain to lance their way through her and she shuddered. Soon they were cinched into the corsets of their respective merry widows and strapped into their garter belts and fishnet stockings. Lavender was dressed in white and Hermione in red, their hair arranged so that curls fell from the crown of their heads to lie in seductive tumbles around their shoulders. Their eyes were then sketched with smoky kohl, charms were applied to bring colour to their cheeks and their lips painted dark and full, before Milly pronounced them ready. 

"Please don't cause any trouble, Miss. I is not liking it when you come back hurt." Milly petitioned Hermione as the women walked to the door and knocked to signal they were ready and the door could be unlocked.

"I'll try to be good." It was all Hermione could promise.

***

"Ah, here we are, Severus," Malfoy smiled at Snape, who was looking around the room to get his bearings.

"And where would that be?" Severus asked coolly, still unsure of what was going on.

"Think of it as a spa, if you will." Malfoy answered without telling him what he wanted to hear. "When you leave here, you will be relaxed and rejuvenated and ready for the revel." Severus highly doubted it, though his face betrayed nothing. Malfoy had no idea how tightly wound he was right now. Was he being tested yet again? Lucius walked over to the corner of the room and picked up a crystal decanter from its place on a silver tray. "Drink, Severus?" Snape nodded and after a few moments he was handed a glass filled with amber liquid. Snape raised the glass and held it under his nose, sniffing the contents.

"Fire whiskey." he said in a soft voice. Lucius nodded.

"Only the best." He replied, taking a sip from his own glass--a move that allayed Snape's suspicions a little.

"Now, if you'll do me the favour of waiting here for a moment, I'll go and make sure everything is ready." Severus nodded and watched as Malfoy closed the door behind him. Once he was alone he crossed the room, drink in hand, to look out of the window. If he was hoping for a familiar view, he was out of luck. It seemed the place was perched on the edge of a cliff as the window looked out over the sea, and the view reminded him of the one he saw from his rooms at Hogwarts that looked out over the lake, but that was all. He looked around the room once more, sipping the whiskey tentatively as if he cradled a glass of poison, before sitting down to await Malfoy's return.

***

Hermione jumped as the door to the green room opened. She looked around to find one of her worst nightmares realized. Lucius Malfoy was standing on the threshold, studying her. _Great Merlin, no, not him!_ she thought to herself, suddenly awash in pain at the mutinous thought. Only two people here really scared her and they were Lucius Malfoy and Lord Voldemort. She found herself thankful that it was only Malfoy, though. She'd take his beatings and twisted tastes over a visit from Tom Riddle any day. The last girl that had been visited by Lord Voldemort had not returned. Every time she thought of Hannah, her chest grew tight. No-one, not even the worst Death Eater, deserved to die like that.

"Ah, Mudblood, it's nice to see you are ready." Hermione met his eyes but remained silent. She had long ago learned, lips split and bloodied by the rings on his hand, that you do not talk out of turn with Lucius Malfoy. He took a moment to drink in her form as she stood complacent before him. "I have some instructions for you." he told her. She felt a cold knot bind itself around her core as he cupped her chin in his hand. "Listen well, your life depends on it. You will not take no for an answer from our guest, do you understand?" She nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Lord Voldemort is most concerned with this man's welfare. You will give him something he has not allowed himself in years--you will make love to him and you will enjoy it." 

Hermione found herself filled with loathing as she felt compelled to answer automatically, "Yes, sir." What in the hell was she saying yes to? Another Death Eater monster relishing her pain?

"Wear this." She took the red, feathered half-mask from him and slipped it on, completing the careful ensemble. "Ah… wonderful." Hermione repressed a shudder as she noted the strange glint in his eye. He leaned in and claimed her lips, running his cruel, slender fingers along her fishnet clad thighs and up between her legs. His kiss was strong but cold and she felt dead inside. _Why is it that I always have one or the other of the Malfoys sniffing after me like a dog?_ She let herself get swept away by the pain that washed over her at the thought.

***

Severus was ushered through the heavy oak door by Lucius Malfoy. "Enjoy yourself! I can guarantee you won't be disappointed. I'll be back to collect you in a while, just before things really start hopping at the dark revel." Before Severus had a chance to reply he heard the bolt being shot home on the outside of the door. He reached for his wand… It wasn't there. He cursed softly to himself before straightening up and looking around. That bloody bastard had pick-pocketed him and he hadn't even realized it, he was so caught up in worrying about what was going on. How could he have let that happen? Was he losing his touch? At that thought, he grew even more worried.

The room was candlelit, albeit dimly. As his eyes grew accustomed to the almost non-existent lighting, he realized he was in a bedroom and with a start, that he was not alone. There was a figure sitting in a chair across the room--on the other side of the bed, silent and unmoving--waiting for acknowledgement.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asked, face still hidden from her in the shadows. He did not get a reply.

__

Merlin's balls!! Hermione thought to herself, in a panic as she recognized the timbre of the voice after all these months. She'd know that tone anywhere, even well into her old age. _Professor Snape._ Even as she balked at who her 'visitor' was, she found herself rising from the chair against her will, one foot moving in front of the other automatically as she crossed the room to stand in front of him. She had never been so glad in all her days to be wearing a mask as she was at this moment. As for him, he looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, stunned and even a little terrified all at once--a look she did not associate with Professor Snape in the least.

"There's been some kind of mistake… " he began, "I'm not supposed to be here." Hermione couldn't have agreed with him more but was unable to voice the sentiment.

"But you are." she replied instead in a soft whisper, stepping closer to him. Severus was struggling. This was absolutely not what he was expecting at all from this evening. He pulled what strands of dignity he could around himself, stood tall, and glared at her--a look that usually struck terror into those on the receiving end of it. It didn't work this time, though. The masked woman took another step towards him and he stepped back to keep her from invading his personal space.

"What's the matter?" Another step closer. "Don't like girls?" And another. "Would it be better if I were a boy?" Hermione asked when she'd finally backed him up against a wall and he couldn't go anywhere else. Snape's eyes narrowed and he looked mildly insulted. 

"No, it would not be better… " he sniped, biting back the rest of the remark.

"Good." She replied, relieved at his answer. She raised a hand and ran it down his prominent cheekbone, trailing the backs of her fingers along his neck. He was softer and warmer than she'd imagined, not to mention very tense. He didn't want to be here either, by the looks of things. Oddly enough, the discovery eased her own discomfort. "Now are you going to give in and let nature run its course?" Her voice was low and sultry. She stood on her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his lips before stepping away from him and sitting on the edge of the bed. It made no difference what he said--Hermione had instructions she couldn't go back on, but she'd like to let him think he had a choice in the matter. 

Severus was filled with conflicting emotions and thoughts. He could still feel her touch as if it had seared his cheek and his lips tingled. It had been years since anyone had touched him like that and he'd forgotten what it felt like. On the other hand, his mind was working overtime trying to figure out what game Lucius was playing with him. He sat down at the other end of the bed and studied her. He wondered who she was but thought it unlikely she would tell him--she was masked, after all. 

She was cinched, quite flatteringly, into a dark red velvet confection. Her skin was golden in the soft light and her breasts swelled invitingly over the top of the corset. Her hair, dark chestnut in the soft light, fell in ringlets around her shoulders and her eyes were unfathomable through the holes in the mask. The play of shadow and light on her lips was an enticement he was afraid to accept. He closed his eyes and tried to gather himself together.

He opened them again after a moment to find she was studying him. "Well?" she asked.

"This whole situation is discomfiting to say the least. I have no idea where I am or whose company I'm keeping." He answered truthfully. His statement was greeted with a small smile.

"If it helps, I have no idea where we are either… but I do know whose company I'm keeping, Professor." He started at her use of his title and eyed her warily as she moved up the bed to sit beside him. She was amazed once more at how helpless she was to resist the task set to her by Malfoy. 

Snape didn't know what to think anymore and said as much. 

"Well maybe you think too much." _Where was this dialogue coming from?_ Hermione raised a red gloved arm and placed her hand on his chest. He looked from her hand to her eyes as she began to push him back onto the bed. She was strong and tenacious and he stopped fighting her. "That's right, just go with the flow." she told him as he lay back, weighing her from beneath black brows permanently etched with a frown. "Let's give you a night to remember." He closed his eyes at her words, fear and anticipation tumbling together inside him with the glass of fire whiskey he had drunk. Trying to predict what was going to happen next in this increasingly strange evening was like trying to forecast the movements of a rogue bludger escaped from the confines of a Quiddich match.

Severus stiffened as he felt her move up the bed and along his body, her fingers delicately tracing their way towards his face with feather-light touches. He drew in a slight, hissing breath at the sensations her hands were eliciting from him and she stilled, stopping to study him. He opened his eyes to find she was staring at him again, her eyes glistening darkly from their place in the mask.

He was about to say something to her when she leaned in and stopped his mouth with a kiss. Unlike the first time, this kiss was deep and insistent and he found himself lost in the moment and kissing her back. 

Hermione was stunned by the kiss, and the butterflies that had been in her stomach fluttered down to dance between her legs. _Who'd have ever thought Snape--the greasy-haired, hook nosed git who had been the bane of her existence at Hogwarts--could kiss like that?_ And who would have thought that his gentle mouth and reticence could reach her, used as she had been these last months. Usually she was bitten, bruised or smacked around within the first five minutes in one of these rooms; a prelude to a nightmare. Then they'd fix her up as good as new and it'd be straight back into the Snake Pit for a repeat performance. She could tell already that tonight was going to be different from her usual experience as one of their whores, because she was the one making all the moves here… whether she wanted to or not. A slow, half smile found its way to her lips as she broke off the kiss and shifted to straddle him.

Severus was surprised at how bereft he felt as she broke away from him. Maybe he should have indulged in a few of his little fantasies over the years. He might not feel like such a slave to this mystery woman's touch, had he done so. He watched her as she moved to sit astride him, fighting to keep his cool reserve as she reached behind herself to run one gloved hand up his inner thigh, and wondering what she had thought to make her smile. Her movements were languid, yet deliberate. He wondered again about her identity. There was something about her that struck him as familiar, and she had known who he was. Then her hand found the erection that betrayed him, and he lost the train of thought.

__

Well what do you know? He's not dead, or undead, after all. Hermione thought to herself, remembering the schooldays rumours about Snape. What had they been again? Oh, yes… he was a vampire and turned into a bat at night, that was one of the more popular ones. She liked that one herself, actually, because of the way he'd swept down the corridors like a great bat, robes flapping behind him. Or a raven... she'd fancied that rumour too, what with the great beak of a nose and the voluminous black robes falling around him like huge, folded wings. Her smile grew even wider. Now, seeing him through eyes much older and wiser than they seemed, he wasn't such a caricature. Right now he looked like a little-boy-lost and she knew exactly how he felt.

Hermione peeled off her gloves and tossed them carelessly to the floor, never breaking eye contact with him the whole time. The gloves were almost always the first thing to go, as she couldn't do her job properly with them on. She reached down and slid her manicured fingers between the layers of his jacket, popping the buttons in a nonchalant manner as she went, caressing him through the fine linen undershirt he wore beneath it with light, teasing strokes. She was strangely flattered to feel him tremble under her touch. When the last button was undone, she deliberately sat down on his erection and ran her hands under the satin lining and swept back the jacket and the robes he was wearing so she could loosen the laces of his shirt. 

Severus was having a hard time concentrating, what with all these sensations sweeping over him. He bit his bottom lip to help control the shivers he was experiencing as she rubbed against his crotch with her own, and raised his hands to rest them on her fishnet clad thighs. He rubbed his thumbs gently back and forth over the ridges of the stockings and the bare flesh underneath. She took this tentative touch to mean he was giving his permission for her to continue, and she was right. She leaned over and kissed the side of his neck, marveling as she did so that he smelled of sandalwood and myrrh. He trembled at the touch of her lips on his flesh. "Don't get out much do you, Professor?" she asked, but not unkindly. He could feel her smile curl against his skin as the question left her mouth. 

"No, I don't." he answered honestly. A barely-there smile quirked at the corner of his lips and he wondered again about the woman straddling him. Something about her practically screamed "If you think I'm Slytherin, please do me a favour and kill me!" She began to kiss him, trailing her lips down to the nape of the neck and onto his chest as she finished unlacing his shirt. With practiced ease she pulled the ends of the shirt out of the top of his pants and peeled it back to rest on the jacket so she could run her hands up his bare chest. 

She was happy with this arrangement until she was grounded by the layers of material that draped heavily off his shoulders and arms. Her exploration stopped suddenly, hands run adrift on the sandbanks of his clothing.

"Shit!" she exclaimed. It was all he could do to keep a straight face as she bemoaned her fate. He looked up at her, a little puzzled, wondering where she was coming from. "Well, are you going to help a Damsel In Distress or not?" she asked, her voice teasing him with every word.

It took him a minute, but he finally understood what she was getting at and pushed her back gently so he could rear up and help her push the shirt, jacket and cloak off him.

"I'm a bit rusty with this stuff." he told her by way of excuse. He listened to the irreverent laughter bubble up within her.

"Isn't that the truth!" she replied, leaning in to kiss him again and push him back down onto the bed. He pushed her away.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"The Malfoys like to think I'm no-one of importance." She answered flippantly, tensing as the result of the Imperius swept over her. He felt her stiffen as she sat astride him and knew from her reaction she was fighting one of the unforgivables. He had enough experience of his own in that field to know when someone else was suffering their consequences. He was surprised at how uneasy the knowledge made him. He went through the catalogue of various symptoms in his mind and arrived at the only logical conclusion.

The Imperius Curse.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, amazed at how quickly the mood had changed for him.

"Because they can--and do--make me do anything they want." There was an edge of quiet hysteria to her voice as she struggled to get every word out in clipped tones.

"And who are they?" Why was he asking her all these questions? What did he care?

"The Malfoys." She shuddered as a burning pain flooded her nerve endings.

"Take off your mask. Let me see your face." He wasn't sure she'd comply but she raised her hands to her face and ran her fingers behind her ears to free the mask and slowly let it drop away from her face, cradled in her palms as if it were made of crystal. 

He raised an elegant hand to cup her chin and raised her face to meet his. It took a second but once he realized who was straddling him he bucked her off his lap like she was the devil incarnate and struggled to get off the bed. His expression confirmed her suspicions as to why no one had ever bothered looking for her. 

"M..Miss Granger!" Snape looked absolutely shocked. "Y..You're alive." He stammered as he lurched to his feet. She tried to laugh as she sat back up but it came out tangled in a sob.

"I guess it's safe to suppose rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated." 

Severus was stricken. He, along with everyone else involved in the resistance, had truly believed she died in the same battle that had claimed the lives of many great witches and wizards, including Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick and Mad-Eye Moody. The casualties of that battle had been so great and yet, standing publicly as he had been on the side of Voldemort, he had been unable to acknowledge his grief for the fallen. Many of the promising up and coming witches and wizards had fallen that day too, Hermione Granger among them. There had been many bodies that had never been found when the fog of war had cleared. 

After a moment of shocked pacing--during which time she watched him stride back and forth before her, wearing a hole in the carpet--he turned to face her. "What happened?"

"To the victors go the spoils," she laughed bitterly, "and believe me when I tell you I'm spoiled." She looked up to see no judgement written upon his face, something that surprised and disarmed her. "I was spirited off the battlefield by Malfoy Jr." she continued, "and woke up here. I've been here ever since, so I think you can imagine the rest of the story without me having to fill you in on every lurid detail."

Severus nodded in agreement, wondering why her story and the way she told it had effected him so deeply. Maybe it was the thought that Hogwarts finest mind in years had been reduced to this, a slave to the Imperius Curse in the worst possible way. Or maybe it was just that he was getting soft in his old age. _Yeh, Severus, you're so pathetically old. 42 is positively ancient!_

"You've got to let me finish what I've started here." she told him apologetically, her eyes filling with tears as she begged the man who had always been her harshest critic. "Please… Don't say no… I'm so sick of the pain... I'm exhausted."

"I don't want to see you hurt."

"Believe me, there's no way you can hurt me any more than I already have been." She told him, tears leaking down her cheeks. "Promise you'll do as I ask and cooperate with me."

"How?" he was sure he knew what she was going to say but he wanted her to confirm it.

"Make love to me and let me make love to you… please! It's the only thing that'll satisfy him." He regarded her for a long moment before answering. He wasn't sure if she meant Lord Voldemort or Lucius Malfoy but he supposed for all intents and purposes they were one in the same.

"As you wish, Miss Granger." At his response she fell into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you." She whispered, meaning it, and his jaded heart broke for her as he lowered his lips to hers.

***

The Dark Revel was winding down and Severus was glad. It had been one long and draining night and he was bone tired. As he stood, absently watching the depravities around him from his place on the dais next to Lord Voldemort, his mind wandered back to his time in the Green Room. He wondered again at the brothel's location and recalled the gentle desperation of Miss Granger as she had made love to him. He could still feel the ghost of her touch on his skin and the taste of her mouth on his and was haunted by the look he'd seen in her eyes as Lucius Malfoy had come to fetch him to the Revel. 

How would he tell Potter and the others what had happened tonight? What would they say when he told them Hermione was still alive and so were a number of others they thought lost? He supposed, as he turned his attention back to Voldemort and the situation at hand, that it was a problem for another day.

A/N - I've done two pics so far of scenes from this chapter. Cut and paste the links to have a look.

http://photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp?.dir=/Art+from+A+Night+To+Remember&.src=gr&.dnm=scene+from+chapter+1.jpg&.view=t&.done=http%3a//photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/lst%3f%26.dir=/Art%2bfrom%2bA%2bNight%2bTo%2bRemember%26.src=gr%26.view=t

http://photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp?.dir=/Art+from+A+Night+To+Remember&.dnm=2nd+scene+from+ANTR+chapter+1.jpg&.src=gr&.done=http%3a//photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp%3f.dir=/Art%2bfrom%2bA%2bNight%2bTo%2bRemember%26.dnm=scene%2bfrom%2bchapter%2b1.jpg%26.src=gr


	2. The Morning After

"Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!" the little house-elf tutted in concern. Milly was working on healing the angry purple bruises circling Lavender's throat and neck when the door to the room opened and Hermione was ushered through. Both the blonde girl and the house-elf were surprised that Hermione was able to enter the room without the aid of a Death Eater lackey using a mobilus corpus spell. As the bolt was shot home behind her, Hermione walked over to where they sat.

"Oh, honey, who happened to you tonight?" she asked gently, brushing her room-mate's hair back from her shoulders to get a better look as she sat down on the end of the bed.

"Draco happened," Lavender rasped through bruised vocal cords, "he was extremely pissed off because you weren't available, the huffy little git!" At her words, the effects of the Imperius swept over her and she shuddered.

"I'm sorry, Lavender."

"Don't be. It's not your fault he's so bloody twisted and volatile… and if he hadn't taken it out on me, it would have been one of the other girls." Another shudder wracked her body and as she fought it down she took the time to study Hermione more closely. "But what about you? You haven't a mark on you for a change and you look like the cat who stole the cream." 

"I do?" Hermione asked, a half-smile colouring her voice. Lavender nodded. "Well, I doubt you'll believe me, but I had a very interesting evening entertaining a reluctant guest," Lavender cocked a questioning eyebrow and Hermione continued, "our former Potions professor."

"Snape?!? Professor Snape?!?" Lavender's damaged voice cracked with disbelief as she jerked away from Milly's ministrations in shock. "The greasy git who made our lives miserable for all those years? That Professor Snape?" 

"Do you know any other? And anyway, don't sound so flabbergasted." Hermione had expected this reaction. "I'll have you know he was very gentle and a gentleman to boot, not like the others…" she trailed off, not wishing to follow that train of thought. "I guess they don't tell him everything that goes on, though."

"And why is that?" Lavender was still trying to get her mind around what she'd just been told and failing miserably.

"When I took the mask off that Malfoy Sr. made me wear he was totally spooked and just about had a heart attack. He thought I was dead."

"I guess they all do. It would go a long way to explaining why we're still here."

"I suppose it does. Of course, we don't even know where here is, so how can we expect anyone else to. And Snape said he'd no idea where he was either." Hermione answered, stifling a yawn as she stood up and started peeling off the velvet costume, carelessly kicking the pieces into the corner by her bed.

"But why would a Death Eater not know about this place? Do you believe him?" Lavender asked as Hermione pulled down the sheets and crawled under the covers.

"After everything that happened tonight, I'm inclined to. Goodnight, Lavender."

"G'night, Hermione."

***

Snape was so tired he had almost stumbled over the threshold to his suite of rooms at Hogwarts. He realized what time it was as dawn began to break and the first pale threads of sunlight filtered in through the window. Thank the gods it was Sunday today and he'd be able to catch a couple of hours of sleep before he'd have to start into everything. Yawning, he strode across the room to pull the heavy curtains shut and stopped in his tracks as the view called to mind the one he had seen last night out the window of the brothel. 

The thought reminded him that he hadn't been doing his job. He hadn't even been aware of the place, which was unforgivable for a spy. Much as he was loath to admit it, he needed to be in the company of Death Eaters more often than in his capacity as Headmaster of Hogwarts and Voldemort's pet potions master. All notion of sleep, no matter how welcome, was driven from his mind, but one thing was for certain--he wasn't going anywhere until he washed and changed. He walked over to the night table beside his four-poster and opened it, fishing around inside until his fingers came into contact with the vial that signified a Wit Sharpening Potion. Cracking open the seal somewhat carelessly, he quickly downed the contents, grimacing so completely at the taste that his wisdom teeth shone in the morning light. He waited for a few moments until the potion took effect, brushing off the cobwebs that had been gathering in his tired mind, before going through his routine post-revel ablutions, which mostly consisted of standing under a scalding hot shower and trying to burn all traces of the night's atrocities from his skin.

***

Harry hadn't slept well at all. He had tossed and turned all night, worrying about the Headmaster and wondering if he'd done the right thing by asking him to go to the revel. He sat up in his cot and covered a large yawn with both his hands before casting about in the dark for his glasses. As he wiped the sleep from his eyes under the weight of his glasses, he swung his feet off the side of the cot and sighed. He had the feeling it was going to be a very long day.

The resistance headquarters was a series of rooms and tunnels hewn out of the rock magically, some metres below the windswept Yorkshire countryside. It was unplottable and heavily warded and only a select few knew of its existence and even fewer knew its location. The usual way in or out was via portkey but there was also one well-guarded fireplace in the complex that was linked to a very small, private floo network only known to the same resistance members who knew of the portkeys. The two dozen operatives who lived here were well hidden and as safe as galleons at Gringotts here, but sometimes the place was as oppressive as a prison or tomb. Other smaller resistance cells were scattered throughout the country in places where the Death Eaters were unlikely to look or suspect

Harry decided he needed a soak and made his way to where an underground heated spring bubbled up through the rock in the centre of the compound. He stripped off his clothes and sank gratefully into the water, feeling the warmth of the mineral spring permeate right down to his bones, a rare sigh of contentment escaping him as he laid his head back to rest on the smooth rock at the edge of the spring and closed his eyes.

This was how Ron found him twenty minutes later. "Oi, you, what do you think you're doing?" The thin, lanky red-head asked, his voice carrying the edge of a smile. "Padma wants to know if you're going to come and eat something."

"Well, as long as it's her turn to cook and not yours, I guess you can let her know I'll be there in a minute." Harry answered flippantly.

"And just what's wrong with my cooking?" Ron asked, folding his arms across his chest and drawing himself up tall and straight in an unconscious parody of their old potions teacher.

"You mean what's right with your cooking. You've never been subjected to Muggle school dinners have you?"

"Nope, can't say that I have." Ron answered, knowing where this familiar objection of Harry's was leading.

"Your cooking is on par with the worst primary school meal I've ever had, rogue earwigs in the boiled cabbage and potato sacking in the powdered mashed potatoes in P7 not withstanding." Harry was grinning as Ron picked up his clothes and threw them unceremoniously at the young man who used to be known with quite a bit of awed reverence as 'The Boy Who Lived."

"Get dressed will you, you stupid git!" he commanded, having a hard time disguising a self-deprecating laugh as he turned on his heel and returned to the room they'd dubbed the Hall--a place laid out in a miniature copy of the Hogwarts Great Hall of their youth, right down to the charmed ceiling that reflected the sky outside.

Harry sighed and stepped out of the spring, struggling to pull dry clothes over sopping wet skin. He thought the only thing wrong with this whole resistance scenario was the fact Hermione, who had been their best friend since first form, wasn't there to share it with them and hadn't been with them for the last six months. God, he missed her brains and her insight. He missed having her around as the voice of reason when they were about to go haring off on some mission or another. He sighed and shook his head and when he was finally able to get his clothes on he made his way to the Hall.

***

When Harry arrived, he found Padma shoveling a ladle full of food onto the plate set in front of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, while Ron sat across from him with his arms folded across his chest and a frown on his face. 

"Headmaster," he acknowledged as he sat down.

"Potter." Snape responded, with a curt nod as he spooned a few mouthfuls into his face. Harry could tell from the way he was holding himself that the headmaster was exhausted. He thanked Padma as she ladled some of the food into the bowl in front of him.

"I wasn't expecting to see you so soon." Harry commented as he stirred the stew, chasing a carrot around in the broth with his spoon.

"I wasn't expecting to have to come so soon," Snape answered without looking up, "but there were some developments I thought you should be made aware of as soon as possible."

"Such as?"

"Who else have you had keeping tabs on Death Eater activities?" Snape asked, instead of elaborating. 

"What kind of activities are we talking about here?" Harry wished he'd just get to the point. 

"What they're doing in their leisure time, specifically."

"Creevy's been keeping track of that sort of stuff, and I don't think he's turned up much at all." Harry answered with a shrug. "Even though he's been working as a photographer for the Prophet, they don't trust him much because he's a Gryffindor. He hasn't been able to attend anything but the most 'official' functions at the Ministry and such. He's mostly reported a lot of smaller comings and goings from Malfoy Manor. It's not like he can get inside the gates to get a closer look, so he's been using his zoom lens to capture images of people as they cross the threshold." 

"Has anyone reported anything untoward or unexplained?" Snape asked before eating another spoonful. The way the Headmaster was asking questions was troubling Harry a bit. He seemed like he was a man who'd just woken from a coma he'd been in for years and was desperate for information.

"Padma's the one who sorts and organizes all the information. She's the one with the eidetic memory." Ron spoke up and Snape turned to look at the Ravenclaw girl who had joined the resistance the day the free wizarding world and her sister had died. 

"Miss Patil?" 

"What exactly are you looking for, sir?" she asked, sitting down at the table.

"Can you recall the names of the fallen during the war?" Padma nodded slowly, not sure where he was going with this. "Of the bodies that were not recovered and of whom no trace could be found, what percentage were Muggle-born?" Padma closed her eyes for a moment as she mentally compiled a list.

"About ninety percent of them." she finally answered. Snape nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer.

"Has anyone reported information on brothels or other such establishments?"

"Where are you going with this, Headmaster, and what has this got to do with last night's revel?" Harry asked impatiently before Padma could reply. Snape turned and looked at Harry, his measured gaze boring darkly into him.

"I was taken via Floo Network from Malfoy Manor to such an establishment, last night." Snape replied. "I had no idea such a place existed. My wand was taken from me and I was locked in a room with a prostitute."

"Gods, Snape, do you have to subject us to a blow-by-blow account of your sex life?" Ron asked, looking positively green at the thought.

"I can assure you, Mr. Weasley, you are the last person I wish to have this discussion with, but this is indeed important." Ron rolled his eyes and Harry motioned for the Headmaster to continue. "As I was saying, I was locked in a room with a prostitute. I did not want to be there, in fact, I was very suspicious of the whole thing and thought it might be a trap of some sort as the girl was masked so I could not see her face. This is also not one of your run-of-the-mill whore houses. It is a very high class operation, one, I suspect, created for the exclusive use of the upper echelons of the Dark Lord's sycophants." Snape's thoughts turned inwards and he didn't say anything for a moment or two.

"And?" Harry prompted.

"The prostitutes there are controlled by the Imperius Curse, courtesy of the Malfoys, Mr. Potter." 

"That's just despicable!" Padma exclaimed. Harry and Ron had paled at the revelation, knowing from the look on his face that Snape wasn't finished.

"And that's not the worst of it, Miss Patil, not at all." Snape's voice had taken on a tone that reminded them of a razor blade sheathed in velvet and they dreaded what he would say next. 

"Does this have something to do with the question you asked Padma a few minutes ago?" Harry asked, his horrified mind suddenly putting two and two together. Snape nodded.

"The girl who entertained me last night was none other than Hermione Granger."

"You lying bastard!" Ron yelled, as he stood up and grabbed the front of the Headmaster's robes. Snape met his eyes and Ron felt the anger leech out of him. He could tell by the look on the man's tired face that he was telling the truth and released his grip on the folds of material he had wadded in his fist. 

"I'm not lying Mr. Weasley. Apparently, Miss Granger is not the only girl there. The majority of the prostitutes are Muggleborn, but there are a few purebloods there as well, strictly as a form of punishment from what I understand." 

"How could you?" Ron asked, his voice filled with emotion. "How could you put her through that?" Harry sat silently, stricken at the news the Headmaster had brought.

"I had no choice, Mr. Weasley." Snape rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. "If she had disobeyed Lucius Malfoy's instructions, she'd have been crippled with the pain and as it was, she was masked and anonymous for the first part of the evening… and I was in the wolf's den, I had to be careful and do what they expected of me." He was silent for a moment before adding, "For what little it's worth, I was gentle with her, not like her usual customers, from what I understand." He looked up at Padma to see she was crying silently, tears leaking down her face as her shoulders shook. Harry stood up and moved to kneel beside her and comfort her.

"It's okay, love, shhh…" he told her as he rubbed her back. He looked up at Snape, his green eyes serious and angry. "We've got to free them."

"That's all well and good, Mr. Potter, but I have absolutely no idea where this place is, other than it is built on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. And there's a number of guards too. Even if I knew where it was, we wouldn't be able to just waltz in and free them."

"Well, you're just going to have to find an excuse to go back for another visit then, aren't you." Snape raised an eyebrow as he realized Harry wasn't kidding. 


	3. Table Manners

Severus still couldn't believe what he had heard coming from the mouth of Harry Potter.

"Harry, you've got to be bloody kidding!" Ron spoke up, unable to believe that his friend had suggested such a thing.

"No, Ron, I'm not." Harry, still crouched next to Padma, held up a hand to stop his red-faced friend from objecting further. "Think about it. What other way do we have of helping her other than sending the Headmaster back there? There aren't enough of us active in the resistance movement right now to pull off anything bigger than random guerilla raids and sabotage. We don't know enough about all of this. We aren't in a position to wage all out war on Voldemort's regime and you know it."

Ron's shoulders sagged as he sat down again and he looked defeated, even as he cringed at his friend's casual use of the Dark Lord's name. Harry continued, obviously on a roll, "Headmaster," he addressed Snape, "can you go over what you remember about the place for me?" Severus nodded.

"It's a large manor house, I think, from what I saw of it. It's richly appointed in the way a home belonging to old blood and money would be. We flooed into a sitting room and when Lucius Malfoy left me alone to go and check that everything was 'satisfactory', I was able to take a look out a window. The place is somewhere on the coast, built on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. There are at least three levels to it, because we went up a flight of stairs to reach the room and I saw that there was a flight of stairs leading to another level again." He looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, but that's all I can tell you about the place itself."

"What about Hermione and the other girls there? Can you tell us everything you know about them? Every little bit of information helps." Padma had wiped the tears from her face and was now leaning forward expectantly, ready to catalogue the information in her brain along with everything else.

"Miss Granger didn't look emaciated, so we can assume they are getting regular meals. Lucius took my wand from me but gave it back when he came to collect me, so I also think it's safe to assume they don't want to risk the chance of one of them getting their hands on a wand, even if they're under the Imperius. Unfortunately, from what she told me, they are used and abused quite horrifically then are healed and used and abused again." Severus trailed off as he took a moment to gauge their reactions. Harry and Padma were pale and shocked and Ron seemed to be getting more and more agitated. Miss Granger is also under the effect of a double Imperius, so I can assume she's been causing some trouble, even in captivity." 

"A double Imperius?" Harry tried to wrap his mind around the concept. "I've never heard of that before. Is it even possible?"

"It's possible, but usually unnecessary. She was fighting it to give me the answers she did, but she managed to tell me what she could, a fact that's amazing in itself. I'm surprised she hasn't broken from the strain of it all."

"If there's one thing I can say about Hermione, it's that she's extremely single minded when she needs to be." Harry commented.

"Did she tell you how many girls there are there?" Padma asked, intrigued and horrified at the same time by what Snape was telling them.

"She said there were twenty prisoners in all there. Fifteen women and four men are still living."

"Did she give you any names?" Padma wanted to compare the names with the list of witches and wizards who had not been found

"None, except for the name of her cell mate."

"And who is that?" 

"Lavender Brown." Padma and Harry stared at him open mouthed. Snape's gaze flicked to Ron, as the pair had dated for a while before the war broke out. If he was looking for a show, he wasn't disappointed.

"Merlin's fucking balls!!!" The hot-headed Gryffindor stood up again so quickly that the chair he'd been sitting on slammed back against the floor with a clatter. "They've got Lavender too?!? Don't you have any good news for us?"

"Is there ever any good news where the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters are concerned, Mr. Weasley?" Severus replied with a question of his own.

"Ron," Padma began, her voice reasonable, "we thought they were dead until today. The fact they're alive means we have a chance to get them back." Ron looked at her penitently as her words sunk in and he read between the lines. Parvati, whose broken body had been recovered after the final battle, was well and truly lost to them, but they had a chance to free their friends.

"I'm sorry, Padma." Ron apologized as he turned and righted his chair, sitting down at the table once more.

"While I'm talking Lucius Malfoy into letting me see Miss Granger again, what will the rest of the resistance be doing?" Snape had finished his food and pushed the empty plate away.

"I guess we should plan a little distraction to keep them busy and then we'll use some of our unregistered animagi members to trail them and see where they go. Also, we can have some of the lesser known members of our satellite cells scour the coastline by broom and see if they can't come up with a likely location for that mansion."

"That would be a good idea. Lucius Malfoy would not tell me where I was last night, so I can't see him being forthcoming about it and if I were to ask again outright, I may make him suspicious and we don't want that."

"Well, we'll leave it up to you to come up with a way to see Hermione again."

"I'll let you know what happens." Severus told him, standing up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to the school."

***

Hermione looked around the dining room table at the other prisoners as she took her seat. She counted to make sure everyone was there, something she'd done obsessively every day since Hannah had died. Dean and Justin, two other muggle-borns from her year, looked disturbed and washed out. They must have had a rough night last night. Sometimes she wondered who were the most depraved, the male or female Death Eaters? Then another ritual began. One by one, as in a round robin, they spoke the name of who they had been with the night before. She shook her head as the usual suspects were named again and again and then it was her turn.

"Professor Snape." She told them, watching as eyes widened all around her. That name had never been said at this table before. They knew better than to say anything more out loud, but the questions in their eyes spoke volumes. She gave them a reassuring smile and watched as they relaxed, puzzled looks on their faces. Everyone here had become a master at reading body language as it wasn't wise to say too much in front of the 2 burly Death Eater guards stationed at the doors. They didn't look as if they had one brain between the pair of them, but they were mean sons of bitches and it didn't take a lot to provoke them. 

Food began to materialize on the plates in front of them. It was simple fare, plain but nourishing, and you ate what appeared or you ate nothing at all. As they ate, they observed yet another ritual, asking after each other's health. Everyone was present and accounted for, which meant that no-one was tortured to within an inch of their life last night. She studied Lavender, sitting next to her, hair artfully arranged to hide the faint, residual bruises around her neck that Milly hadn't been able to completely erase. Well, she knew that story intimately, having experienced it many times herself. Her eyes flicked across the table and she studied Roisin McEldowney, a black-haired, muggle-born, Ravenclaw witch from Belfast who was three years older than she was. The woman's mouth was curled into a moue of distaste, probably an unconscious reaction to what ever it was she'd been put through last night. Apart from looking drained and unhappy, she didn't seem to be too badly off. Claire Beecham, a Hufflepuff a year younger than Hermione, appeared closed off and barely holding herself together but then again she'd been unfortunate enough to host the brutal and cruel McNair last night again. He'd developed a taste for the slightly built strawberry-blonde and his frequent visits were fraying her nerves and sanity as she hadn't been all that strong to begin with. Hermione didn't envy her in the least, as he'd visited her a few times himself and she knew firsthand there was nothing that turned him on more than the sound of a woman screaming in pain. She repressed a shudder at the thought and tuned into the small talk which was deliberately bland and supposedly innocent so as to not attract the attention of the guards.

***

Monday morning after breakfast, Severus escaped up the staircase behind the gargoyle into his sanctuary, Dumbledore's old office. Every time he crossed the threshold he was reminded of that, not only by the muttering portraits of all the preceding headmasters, but by a sullen and faded Fawkes, who hadn't sung a note since the day Albus Dumbledore had died. "Hello, old boy," he greeted the phoenix as he crossed the room. He had settled on sending an owl to Lucius first to test the waters. Once he had his reply, he'd know how to proceed. He sat down at the huge oak desk and sharpened a new quill.

A few minutes later, he watched as the school owl winged its way towards the south, to Malfoy Manor. Well, that was taken care of, now to get back to what he would do once he met Miss Granger again. He'd had to get up and take a Dreamless Sleep Potion last night, as his mind was filled with images and impressions of the girl and what they had done behind the closed doors of the Green Room, as Lucius had called it, every single time he closed his eyes. What could he do to let her know he was going to help her, without really saying anything? She had been an exceptionally bright girl when she was at Hogwarts and he hoped her months of abuse under the Death Eaters had not dulled her reasoning skills too much. Of course, he didn't think that was true, but it was better to prepare for all possible scenarios.

A soft, magical chime let him know he had company and he looked in the scrying crystal imbedded in the desktop to see Professor Sprout coming up the stairs. He had an idea for a potion, but needed to check with her to see if some of the ingredients he needed from the greenhouse were mature enough to use. He didn't want to have to send away for them, because he knew that if he did that, someone might get wind of what he was up to.

"Severus," the windblown little witch greeted him affectionately, "you wanted to see me?" As per usual, she had a smudge of dirt along the side of her nose. Of the old staff, Professor Sprout was the only Head-of-House still living. Well, he was still alive but one could not be the Headmaster and also a Head-of-House. Poppy Pomfrey, Professor Trelawney and Professor Sinistra were still alive and on staff. Professor Binns was still undead and on staff. All the other teachers were new. Apart from Hagrid, who was missing, every other member of the old teaching staff were dead and gone. He shook himself out of his reverie as he realized he hadn't answered.

"Indeed," he gestured for her to take a seat in one of the squashy chairs in front of his desk, "would you like some tea?" Professor Sprout nodded and, as he poured her a cup from pot on the tray that materialized in front of him, he asked, "How are things in the greenhouse?"

"Everything is coming along quite wonderfully. We had a spectacular growing season this year. You needn't worry about a thing, there's been no root rot or mealy bugs, although I thought we had a bit of a problem with leaf blight, but I got that under control. Everything is perfect for herbology classes and all the ingredients required for the potions curriculum are in order."

"That's splendid to hear." he told her, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Now, what I'm actually interested in is growing in your own private greenhouse. Are you familiar with the Vestigium Teneo potion?" Professor Sprout's eyebrows knitted together in concentration as she dredged her memory.

"Not from personal experience. I know it's quite difficult to brew and what you need to brew it--quite the interesting list of ingredients. What's this for?" She studied him, a worried look stealing onto her face.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you at the moment, however, I can assure you it's nothing untoward… Can you supply the rarer ingredients?" Professor Sprout nodded and sipped her tea.

***

Lucius was grinning as he read the contents of the scroll. "Developed a taste for our little mudblood, have we Severus?" His smile got wider and more predatory. "She's done her job well. This is exactly what I had hoped for." Since the end of the war, Lucius had been unable to find a weakness to exploit in the former Head of Slytherin that would go unnoticed by the Dark Lord. He hated being on an even footing with Snape. If he nurtured this situation, he'd have the leverage he needed to gain the upper hand again. He scratched out a quick reply on a fresh piece of parchment and rolled it up, sliding it into the little silver scroll tube on the school owl's leg. As he watched the owl soar into the sky, he felt like celebrating and decided that a visit to the mudblood was in order.


	4. Just Another Brick

It had been a strange week for Hermione. On Monday evening, a grinning Lucius Malfoy had visited her and for once he hadn't hurt her too badly. He seemed to be gloating about something and referred to her as 'my precious' (which she found stomach-churning), and hadn't really put his full effort into things. On Wednesday, Draco had visited. He had thrown a tantrum about her being his property and behaved like an immature and spoiled child, after which he commenced throwing furniture around the room like he was a rock star strung out on drugs. He didn't even try to do his usual worst to her. It sometimes seemed to her that his favourite thing in the world to do was to humiliate her but this time it seemed like his heart wasn't in it. At his request, she had spent the night sitting on the bed--the only thing he hadn't overturned in the whole room--stroking his white-blonde hair and crooning soothingly as he lay with his head cradled in her lap. Was he angry with her? She didn't think so as he hadn't hit her once, but his behaviour was puzzling none-the-less as he was definitely angry at someone. Had Hell frozen over? Was it snowing Pound Notes? Although she was thankful to have been spared two usually violent encounters, their actions had unsettled her. Even Lavender had sat with her mouth agape when Hermione reported the lack of usual abuse at their hands. The more she thought about it, the more she worried she'd been chosen as the next girl for Voldemort to visit. She paced the room she shared with Lavender, stopping every once in a while to look out the heavily warded window to the cliffs and the crashing sea below, the worried frown between her brows deepening and an inexplicable feeling of fear building in her with every circuit of the floor she made.

***

Severus had read over Lucius' reply a number of times, looking for a catch or any hidden meaning in the carefully couched reply. He could find none, but that didn't lessen his suspicion at all. Malfoy had cheerfully agreed to allow another visit with Miss Granger and had even scheduled it for the coming Friday evening. Okay, if it was Friday, he'd have enough time to finish the Vestigium Teneo potion he'd started on Monday, but just barely. Professor Sprout had sent the rare ingredients to his personal potions lab and he'd worked into the small hours on getting it started. He really hoped it would work, as he'd never heard of it being used in the way he was planning to use it and he didn't really have the time to test it. He had replied to Lucius, thanking him for scheduling a time for him to see 'the girl' again and mentioning he had a little fantasy scenario he had wanted to play out for a few years now and asking if there was any way it could be accommodated. As he wrote of his requirements, he hoped Malfoy would chalk it up to a deviant personality and nothing else. Satisfied with the state of things in his lab, he locked and warded it and decided a visit to the resistance headquarters was in order. He wanted news of their search and wanted to let them know what was planned for the coming Friday. 

He had apparated from the gates of Hogwarts to Snape Castle, the ancestral seat of the Snape family. Even though he was rarely in residence there, the place was warded as heavily as Hogwarts itself. It was a cold, brown-gray Tudor Gothic stone affair set in the middle of the Yorkshire countryside, its threadbare elegance maintained by a skeleton staff of elderly house-elves. He gave a rare smile as he thought of the location of the resistance headquarters, hewn out of the rock several hundred metres under his home. He walked into the library and touched the portkey, carefully hidden within sight on one of the bookcases, that would take him below ground. 

It was Fred and Ron's turn to stay awake and act as sentinels. They both jumped as Snape materialized in front of them in the Hall. "Gods, Snape!" Fred clutched his chest--he had been nodding off as the headmaster appeared.

"I apologize for the intrusion at such a late hour, Mr. Weasley, but I have news."

"I'll go get Harry." Ron said, turning on his heel and striding out of the Hall. Severus sat down at a table and waited quietly, seemingly hypnotized by the dancing flames in the fireplace.

"Is it true?" Fred broke the uncomfortable silence after a couple of minutes.

"Is what true?" Severus asked shortly. He was tired and the veneer of what little patience he possessed was thinning.

"About Hermione and the others…" Fred trailed off as there was no delicate way of posing the question. Snape merely nodded in reply and watched as the young man's shoulders slumped. 

"Headmaster, you have news?" Harry asked as he entered the hall rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Lucius Malfoy is letting me see Miss Granger this coming Friday and I have an idea, so I was wondering if your search had turned up anything I should know about." 

"Hmm, Friday, huh?" Harry did some mental calculation before continuing, "Well, Remus and Sirius both led teams around the northern coastline and turned up nothing that matched your description. By Friday, we should have most of the rest of the coast scouted and will hopefully have something to go on."

"I would suggest you send someone to scout the coastline of the Isle of Man, Ireland, the Isle of Wight, Anglesey, the Channel Islands and the Hebrides, Shetlands and Orkney Islands. There is no guarantee we flooed to a location in mainland Britain."

"You have a point. I'll get a third team in on the action. You said you had an idea?"

"It involves using the Vestigium Teneo potion." He looked around at the three Gryffindors as they racked their brains and suppressed a sigh. If Miss Granger was here, she'd be waving her hand in the air within a second, bursting to tell him a complete ingredient list and the every single one of the applications of the potion. Even though she had been annoying as Hell in school, he never had to worry about whether he was reaching her or not. He finally decided to put them out of their collective misery and answered for them in a tone that showed his disappointment.

"It's a tracing potion, quite difficult to make--it's only covered in the Advanced Potions curriculum… usually you mark an item of worth with it so that if it's ever stolen, it leaves a trail that can be keyed into and tracked." He watched the comprehension dawn on their faces and continued, "I'm going to try using it a little differently though. I've never heard of it being used to track a human, but it's worth a try."

"And how are you going to use it?"

"I'm going to mark Miss Granger and then try to track her, that's why I'd really appreciate it if we could pinpoint a suspected location for the brothel. The closer I am to her, the stronger the pull of the Vestigium Teneo and the more accurate."

"Will they let you take a potion in with you?" Ron wondered.

"They won't know I've got it and I will be handing over my wand into Malfoy's keeping." Snape answered as he stood up, "I'll take my leave now. I want to check on the potion and catch up on some sleep."

***

Time dragged. Even though it seemed he was busy morning, noon and night, he felt like Friday evening would never come. When Friday finally rolled around, beginning with the breakup of an illicit duel between a group of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, he knew he was in for another long and trying day. He had bottled and stoppered the potion this morning and it sat in his lab, silently mocking him for what he was going to attempt with it later. He had no appetite and wasn't hungry enough to eat supper but, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, he was expected to be present at all meals. He pushed his food around his plate and made small talk with Professor Sprout and Poppy Pomfrey. He could tell by the way Sprout looked at him that she was worried about what he was up to, especially when he informed them he would be visiting with Lucius Malfoy that evening. He was so glad when he was able to escape to his rooms and prepare for the night ahead. He shrank the potion down and slipped it into a small pocket on the inside of his shirt, donned his winter cloak and walked to the gates to apparate, a route that was becoming very familiar this past week. 

***

Hermione was alone, locked in the room she shared with Lavender. Lavender had already been called to the Blue Room and Hermione was puzzled as to why she had not been called to service someone yet. Fridays were usually busy here. She tried not to dwell on it, but it was hard not to let her imagination run away with itself. A faint popping announced the arrival of the house elf who delivered the costumes. Hermione sat up on her bed, wondering what he had brought her to wear this time. 

"You are to put these clothes on and await Master Malfoy in the Grey Room." he told her, disappearing before she had found her voice. She felt a surge of relief when she heard him say she would await Malfoy, let out a long sighing breath that ruffled her fringe and bent down to inspect the clothing he had left for her.

"What?" she asked, puzzled as she realized he had brought her a Gryffindor uniform and standard charcoal-grey school robes, complete with a Head Girl badge. "What the Hell is this all about?" she wondered aloud as she dressed. What was Malfoy Sr. up to? She found it a little unsettling to be back in uniform and tried to repress a shudder as she knocked on the door to signal she was ready.

The furniture in the Grey Room had been transfigured so the place gave the approximation of a classroom. _Well, that's interesting,_ she thought to herself, _there's no bed._ Hermione pulled out a stool and sat down for lack of something better to do. She was sitting, elbow on the desk and chin propped in hand, staring off into space when the door opened to admit Lucius Malfoy.

"Ah, Mudblood, nice to see you're warming to the role." At his words Hermione slid off the stool, stood up attentively, and waited for him to continue. He crossed the room to conduct a closer inspection and she waited quietly as he walked around her, sizing her up. Her fingernails were free of polish and she wore no makeup. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she looked exactly as she had as a Hogwarts student. "Very good, very good indeed… not what I would consider fodder for a fantasy but to each his own, I suppose." Hermione was glad he was standing behind her as her eyes widened at his comment. "Now, I don't have to tell you twice to put everything you have into tonight's entertainment, do I?"

"No, Sir." He found Hermione's answer satisfactory and motioned that she could sit back down.

"Do not disappoint me, Granger." Malfoy admonished as he swept back out of the room. 

__

Oh, Gods. Who is it then, if it isn't Malfoy? she asked herself, worry creeping back up her spine as she waited, dreading the moment the door opened again.

***

Severus was relieved things were going according to plan so far. He had engaged in the requisite small talk Lucius valued so highly and even discussed the Dark Lord's latest potions requirements, even though the fine points of potion brewing were lost on Malfoy Sr. Lucius was in extremely rare high spirits which set off Snape's internal sneakoscope, but he buried his suspicions and never let on anything was amiss, going through the motions of asking after Narcissa and Draco instead. When it had come time for him to hand over his wand, he did so with the bare minimum of grumbling and was pleased when Lucius sympathized, "Everyone here, myself included, has to follow that rule." Severus filed that little tidbit of information away for future reference.

Hermione jumped about a foot off her stool when the door of the Grey Room slammed open and Professor Snape strode in, scowling unpleasantly at her. For a moment, it was like she had used the time-turner and she almost forgot this was a brothel, swept away by the familiarity of the situation. While she was glad it was Snape rather than Lord Voldemort or someone else, she was a bit confused at seeing him again and even more confused about the uniform she was wearing and how the room was laid out. What was he up to?

"Five points from Gryffindor for daydreaming, Miss Granger." She snapped to attention at his words, sitting up straight on her stool and giving him her undivided attention. 

__

What in the name of Merlin is going on? she wondered, studying him as he continued speaking.

"Let's start today's lesson with some revision."

"Yes, sir." she replied, humouring him and assuming her role. 

Over the course of the next half hour, she was quizzed six ways from Sunday about potion ingredients and their uses. The questions got more and more advanced as the session continued and soon he was testing her knowledge of the Advanced Potions curriculum in depth. Even though war had interrupted her final year of school, she had memorized the course from start to finish. She was glad to know her mind hadn't become dull over the course of her imprisonment. So was Snape, but he wasn't about to tell her. He walked over to the desk where she was sitting and, palms braced on the edge of the tabletop, he leaned forward until his face was mere inches away from hers and raised an eyebrow. She was trapped in his glittering black gaze and was surprised to see humour dancing there.

"Now, Miss Granger," his voice was low and dangerous and sent little darts of anticipation skittering down her back, "Gryffindor is going to lose the House Cup unless you do something about it. Let's see if the Head Girl can't earn 100 points."


	5. Vestigium Teneo

"Let's see if the Head Girl can't earn 100 points." 

Hermione almost choked on her own spit at his words and fought to keep her expression from changing as she gathered her wits about her. That had not been what she had been expecting so soon after their little game of questions and answers. Not breaking eye contact, she stood up, leaned over the desk and kissed him… tentatively at first but soon long and deep. His eyes were still closed when she broke away from him. "Five points, Miss Granger." he whispered, breathless from her touch.

She felt a thrill rush through her and, for the first time in a long time, it was one of anticipation rather than fear. By letting her call the shots, he had freed her from the pain she experienced whenever she was fighting the Imperius. And where had he come up with this scenario? She wasn't sure she wanted to get close to that answer but it would be an experience to hear him award more points to her in a night than he'd awarded to all of Gryffindor during her school years. 

Hermione stepped around the desk, reaching up to loosen her tie as she moved to stand before him. When she got there she was surprised to discover the tip of her nose was level with his diaphragm. He seemed a lot taller tonight than a week ago, but then again, she'd been wearing 5 inch high stiletto heels on Saturday and tonight she was wearing a pair of sensible oxfords that added only 1 inch to her 5' 4" frame. It was absurd, but the change of outfit and the loss of 4 inches made her feel a little timid. She knew it was ridiculous as they both were fully aware of what she was, but she couldn't help feeling funny. There were far too many familiar and beloved elements mixed together here in this room tonight for her to be comfortable. Even as she went over her doubts in her head, she could feel the Imperius impose itself and override her feelings. Auto-pilot engaged. Well, if that didn't solve her moral dilemma, nothing would.

Using her hands, she steered him backwards towards the chair behind the desk at the head of the room. When he finally stumbled against it, she pushed him into the seat. He said nothing but a half-smile curled along one side of his mouth at her actions--taunting her--daring her to surprise him. Alright then. She dropped to her knees between his legs and smiled wickedly at him as she ran her hands up his thighs and started unbuttoning his trousers. "I'll show you just why I'm _Head_ Girl, Professor."

***

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Lucius, will you turn that thing off!" Narcissa Malfoy was not amused by her husband's voyeurism. "Watching Severus Snape getting his jollies is the last thing I need to see, thank you very much."

"As you wish, dear." Lucius replied, a little disappointed because things were finally starting to get interesting. Only Snape would consider an Advanced Potions lesson to be foreplay, he thought to himself as he pointed his wand at the mirror on the wall. _Oh well, whatever turns you on_. "Finite Incantatem." The scene unfolding in the tranfigured Grey Room faded to be replaced by his reflection and that of the sitting room behind him.

"Why are you showing so much interest in this? I know it's a momentous occasion when Severus the Monk has sex, but what's it to you?" she asked him, setting down her embroidery and studying him through narrowed eyes as he came over to sit on the edge of the chair across from her. "Are you up to something?"

"Aren't I always, my dear?" he replied, reaching out and lifting one of her hands to his lips so he could plant a kiss in her palm.

"Well, are you going to elaborate or not?"

"I've found that addicts have an easily exploitable weakness." Narcissa immediately understood what he was doing--after all they'd been together for twenty-five years now, it would be strange if she couldn't read him. Now she knew why her son had been sulking and skulking around the manor for the past few days, speaking only in monosyllables. That Mudblood girl who was entertaining Snape happened to be his favourite plaything.

"Why Lucius, that's positively rotten and inspiringly twisted." she half reprimanded, a smile on her face. 

"I know," he told her, lifting his hand to rest on his chest. "You know it's not easy being me, Narcissa." he intoned seriously, but his eyes were dancing. He was rewarded with hearing her tinkling laughter as she swatted at him playfully.

***

Harry, Ron and Fred made up the third team of flyers scouting the coastline and they were exhausted. They'd started in the Shetland Islands 2 days ago, moved to the Orkneys yesterday and were currently flying over the Irish Sea on their way to the Isle of Man from the Hebrides. They hadn't found anything resembling the place Snape had said was the location of the brothel so far. He hoped Remus and Sirius and their teams were having better luck than they were. He felt a little stretched. They'd been using potions and charms to keep themselves awake, and while they were working, it didn't stop the fatigue from seeping into their bones and settling there like an arthritic ache.

After another hour of flying, the Isle of Man loomed out of the sea. Harry signaled Ron and Fred and they followed him down to land in a field on the northernmost shore of the island. Ron slid off his broom thankfully, stretched and sank into the cold, dewy grass. "Gods, that feels great. My bloody arse is sore and I could do with a nap."

"Well, I can't promise you a nap, but we can rest here for a while. I want to study the coastline first." Harry patted down his robes, looking for the pocket where he had secreted the enchanted scroll of linen. After a minute or so of searching, his fingers closed around the map and he pulled it out. He sat down lotus-style in the grass and spread the blank cloth out on his lap. Fred came up and knelt beside him, looking over his shoulder as Harry touched the tip of his wand to the map and spoke, "Ambitus Mannanan's Isle." At his words an image began to form in the centre of the square, and after a few minutes a perfect representation of the island's outline seemed to float on the surface of the cloth. A crimson dot close to the northernmost tip of the island, identified now as the Point of Ayre, indicated their current position. Harry and Fred sat crouched over the enchanted map committing the coastline and its approximate length to memory, while Ron lay on his back staring at the clear night sky and humming tunelessly as he chewed on the end of a quite juicy stalk of grass.

After a time, Harry looked up at Fred. "Good enough then, mate?" he asked. Fred nodded and Harry touched his wand to the map and ended the spell. As Harry began to fold the now blank map up and put it away, Fred stood up and stretched as hard as he could before stepping over to give his brother a kick in the backside.

"Come on you git, move your arse!"

"Ow!" Ron spat out the grass and rubbed the back of his leg. "_You're_ the bloody git, Fred!" He huffed as he got to his feet.

"Now, now, don't you two think that's enough brotherly love for one night?" Harry tutted at them as he sat astride his broom and waited for them. "There's miles to go before we sleep."

"Oh, bloody hell… he's waxing poetic again, Ron. Let's mount up quick!"

"Right you are, Fred." Ron said, flashing a grin to match the one on his brothers face as he straddled his broom and kicked off into the air.

***

Hermione was up to 75 points and wracking her brain to come up with the next way she could earn points. She'd gone through just about every trick in the book. Snape had not handed out any more than 20 points at a time, the bastard, and even that was only once. He'd awarded the points in a daze. It had been when she had straightened up and looked into his eyes after fellating him. Even she had to admit that it had been the best effort she'd ever given to the act. No wonder he'd been a little dazed--she prided herself on her professionalism, however twisted that was deep down. She leaned in and kissed him thoroughly, buying herself a little more time to find the trump card, something worthy of 20 or 25 points. After a moment, Snape broke away from her.

"Why, Miss Granger, if I didn't know better I'd think you were stalling for time." He was rewarded by the sight of her chewing nervously on her bottom lip. "I tell you what, why don't you lean back on that desk there and rest a moment?" Hermione frowned, trying to decode what he was telling her but failing, and leaned back.

Severus turned and rifled through the pile on the floor that was his clothes, seeking out the linen shirt he wore under his heavy velvet jacket. After a few moments of fumbling, he had worked the shrunken vial from its nest and clasped it tight in his hand. _Here goes nothing,_ he said to himself as he restored the vial to its original size with a handy bit of wandless magic. "I hope to hell you paid attention to tonight's lesson." he muttered as he straightened up and turned back to face her.

"Is anything the matter, Professor?" she asked, noticing he'd tensed up.

"Anything and everything." he replied a little shortly as he leaned in to kiss her neck "Pay attention!" Hermione was suddenly alert as she heard the sound of a wax seal being broken and concentrated on what he was doing. She shivered as she felt a cool, viscous liquid run slowly between her breasts and gasped as he moved his hands to massage the liquid into her skin and push her back to lie on the desktop. Her skin began to tingle pleasantly as he continued pouring the liquid and rubbing it into her entire body. She let herself get swept away by the feeling of his hands on her.

"What is that?" she whispered, surprised at how every single inch of her felt like it was on fire as the sensation of tingling grew under his touch.

"Kenyan Caralluma, Cypripedium Blephariglottis, Phoenix Tears, Curcuma Pierreana and Lignum Vitae in an almond oil base." He smiled as her eyes widened. _Good girl!_ He could tell that she'd identified the substance and was a little puzzled.

"But isn't that…" He raised a hand to place a silencing finger to her lips and she could taste the strangely bittersweet concoction on his hands. The ingredient list he'd given her belonged to the one potion he hadn't questioned her about tonight--the Vestigium Teneo potion. Had that been deliberate? Suddenly he moved to run his lips along her stomach and she gasped as his hair lightly brushed her skin, causing a ripple of pleasure to spike down to between her legs with its touch.

"Conservo Hermione," he whispered and she shuddered to her core as the potion activated. He raised his head to find her propped on her elbows and watching him with wonder from beneath eyes heavy-lidded with arousal .

"Wow… 20 points to Slytherin, Professor." There was an undercurrent of humour in her voice as she spoke. "Who'd ever have thought?" She left the rest of her comment unsaid, knowing somehow that he didn't want her to talk about what he'd just done.

"Speaking of points, Miss Granger, there's still this matter of the 25 you have yet to earn."

"Yes, sir!" she answered his widening smile with one of her own. 

***

The trio zipped along the northwestern shore of the island, keeping their eyes open as they scouted the coastline below them. So far, it had been uneventful, mostly gently sloping beaches dotted with the odd building, but nothing matching what they were looking for. After another five minutes, the coastline started to change, beaches giving way to low cliffs and soon the lights of the town of Peel could be seen in the distance. 

After casting concealment charms to keep themselves from being seen by any muggles in the town, they flew over the quaint port with St. Patrick's Isle in its bay and Ron sheared off from them to scout the place out while Harry and Fred carried on down the coastline. After a few minutes Ron caught up to them and he was looking quite pleased with himself.

"I think I might have found what we're looking for. Come and see." Harry and Fred did not need to be asked twice and followed Ron as he flew to the side of the small isle that faced out into the Irish Sea.

There, obscured from Muggle sight amidst the ruins of Peel Castle, stood a large red sandstone manor house. They could feel the edges of a number of different wards around it from where they hovered, close enough to check the place out, but not close enough to activate any spells the place might have.

"I think you're right Ron." Harry spoke, sounding relieved and a bit afraid all at once. 

***

A/N - For anyone who's interested, here's the link to a pic I drew called 100 Points to Gryffindor. It kind of fits with this chapter (it was drawn before I did this story) and consider yourselves warned as it contains some nudity. 

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/files/Misc%20%22R%22%20pics/100%20Points%20to%20Gryffindor.jpg

Also, my friend Silene, a great HP artist has drawn a scene from this chapter. Follow the link to take a look.

http://photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp?.dir=/Art+from+A+Night+To+Remember&.src=gr&.dnm=ANTR+Ch+6+scene+-+by+Silene.jpg&.view=t&.done=http%3a//photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/lst%3f%26.dir=/Art%2bfrom%2bA%2bNight%2bTo%2bRemember%26.src=gr%26.view=t


	6. Claro

It was silent as a tomb in the Hall now, yet only a few hours ago it had been a hive of activity. Harry, Ron and Fred had portkeyed back from the Isle of Man and were met by a battery of questions from everyone who had been awaiting their return. Sirius, Remus and their teams had already reported back with their findings, which turned out to be a whole lot of nothing really after everything was sifted through. After a quick debriefing session the gathered resistance members scattered in all directions, their purpose renewed by the events of the past week. They all had jobs to do. All except for Harry, Ron and Fred who had been shooed in the direction of their cots by Padma, like chicks being swept along by the wings of a mother hen. Harry was supposed to be on watch with her tonight but she'd sent him to bed with a smack on the arse, deaf to his tired objections about her standing the shift alone.

She was sitting by the fireplace listening to the cracking and popping of the wood as it blazed away in the grate, her gaze unfocused and her thoughts on the tasks ahead of them. She really hoped that whatever Snape had up his sleeve worked. They could certainly use more bodies in the resistance, especially ones used to moving in both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. It was hard to wage a war against the Voldemort Regime when most people were afraid to step a foot out of place. She was sick of the fear permeating every single person in her life. She wanted to live in a house by the sea--she wanted children and she wanted the simple luxury of being able to walk hand-in-hand down the street with Harry in the daytime. Was that asking too much?

When the fire suddenly flared green she straightened up, her wand drawn and ready as she waited to see who came through. Damn! Suddenly, as adrenalin flooded her system, a part of her wished she hadn't sent Harry to bed. She was very relieved to see the slight, friendly form of Colin Creevey stepping through the hearth.

"Damn you, Colin, my heart's in my throat!" she chastised, shaking a fist at him in mock anger.

"I'm sorry, Padma." he apologized. The slightly built Gryffindor had been working--and all sorts of odd hours at that--for The Prophet since he'd left Hogwarts after completing his O.W.L.s. He'd been kept on at the paper after the wars even though he was Muggleborn because good photographers were hard to find in the wizarding world these days and Voldemort had a propaganda machine to keep well oiled. There had been so many deaths during the war and on top of that quite a few of the unfortunate survivors had been shipped off to Azkaban and placed in cells that had, until the past year, housed Death Eaters convicted of crimes under the old Ministry. 

Colin was one of the few exceptions to the rule, but it was due to the fact he wasn't very threatening and acted submissively, even to the point of letting them take his wand away from him so it appeared as if he wasn't much better than a squib. He was kicking boy at the paper for the those in the pocket of the Death Eaters, and was treated no better than a house elf by them. He allowed himself to be vilified and under-appreciated, all the while keeping his ears open for any little tidbit of gossip or news that might be of help to the resistance. They were careful about what they said around him for the most part but sometimes they'd forget he was there and mention something interesting.

"I've developed my most recent batch of pictures and thought you'd like to go through them. I've been watching every move of the Malfoys since Harry asked me to last week."

"Anything interesting?" Harry asked from the archway as he raised his hands to his face to stifle a yawn. Padma glared at him. If he was lucky, he'd gotten all of about an hour of shut-eye.

"What are you doing up? I thought I told you to get some sleep." She watched a cheeky smile curl on the lips of her betrothed and knew what was coming next. She rolled her eyes.

"Well I got _some_ sleep so you can't really whinge about it now, can you, love? And anyway, I don't like the idea of you being on watch by yourself... just that thought alone is enough to make me too worried to shut my eyes. Besides, it was lonely without you lying on the cot next to mine." Padma smiled and shook her head as Harry came and embraced her from behind so he could kiss her cheek. He sat down next to her at the table and took her hand in his own. He was chilled and she automatically began rubbing some warmth into his fingers with her own. "Creevey, what brings you here at this ungodly hour?" 

"I thought you and the missus might be interested in seeing the slides of my summer holidays at Blackpool, Harry." Colin replied flippantly. Harry cracked a tired smile.

"Well, why didn't you say so? Pull up a chair."

Colin dug in the pockets of his robe and set a small, flat, wooden case on the table between them as he sat down. He undid the clasp and opened the lid, before turning it around sliding the whole thing in front of Harry and Padma. Harry reached in, lifted the photographs out of their nest and looked at each one carefully, setting them back in the box--one at a time--when he was finished with them. He stopped all of a sudden when his eyes lit upon the most interesting scene of Draco Malfoy blasting the heads off the denizens of the statuary garden at Malfoy Manor, a furious look obliterating his coldly handsome features.

"Well, well, what's all this then?" Padma leaned in for a closer look as Harry mused aloud. He studied the angry face of his schooldays nemesis trying to read him.

"Oh, I wonder what he was doing? I wish photographs could talk the way portraits can." Padma sighed wistfully, curious as to what had inspired this spectacle. At her comment, a large grin spread over Colin's face.

"Ask him a question." he told her. She looked up at him as if he were pulling her leg. "I'm serious, go ahead and try it." 

"Okay…" Padma still wasn't sure if he was joking. "What are you doing, Malfoy?"

__

"Getting rid of some pent up aggression, what's it to you?" The voice was thin and watery but unmistakably the snippy, clipped tones of Draco Malfoy.

"Sweet Merlin, Colin! How'd you get it to do that?" Harry was impressed.

"A new developing potion I came up with, coupled with a new enchantment for the camera that traps the thoughts and emotions of the subject at that very moment in the image. This is the first set of pictures I've done using the process. I wasn't sure it'd work until I developed them and I just had to come straight over to show you."

"Colin Creevey, you're a bloody genius. I could kiss you!" Padma exclaimed excitedly and the young man sitting across from her blushed to the roots of his hair.

"But she won't, will you love?" Harry was smiling as he spoke.

"Well, not while you're in the room, anyway." Padma teased him before asking another question of the snapshot. "Why are you angry, Draco?"

__

"My bloody father still treats me like I'm a child, no matter how I show him otherwise. I'm expected to do everything he tells me without even batting an eyelid. I'm sick to death of it!" The platinum-blonde, paper doppelganger raged in its thin, fluting voice. _"She is mine. I have first claim and that bastard knows it. He had no right to give her to Snape!"_ They watched as he blew another head off a statue and Harry and Padma shot each other a look across the photograph.

"Who did he give to Snape, Draco?" She was pretty sure they all knew the answer to that question.

__

"My mudblood whore, Hermione Granger. Now sod off, I'm busy." The young man in the photo turned his back to them and resumed his task of obliterating the ever-reappearing heads of the statues as the picture looped back on itself.

***

Severus Snape was sitting behind the desk in the Headmaster's Office in the darkness. He'd been staring at the moon through the window for close to an hour. The tingling in his hands had started after he'd activated the potion he'd rubbed into Miss Granger. He smiled at the thought of her. For someone who 'knew' her as extensively as he did now, he still thought of her in a surprisingly formal way. He held up his hands in front of his face and flexed them, checking for anything out of the ordinary. You were supposed to wash your hands before activating the potion and he hadn't had the opportunity to do so. He wondered if there would be any side effects from using the potion in a way it had never been tested for and stared at his wand, which he'd set on the desk in front of him when he sat down. There was only one step left to complete the spell and he was hesitating. What if it didn't work after all? It wasn't like him to second guess himself. He was surprised by the soft rustling of feathers that let him know Fawkes had made a move. He glanced up to find the phoenix looking down at him from its perch on the high back of the chair he was sitting in, head cocked as if asking a question.

"Hello, old boy." Snape turned in his seat and raised his slender fingers to stroke the phoenix's neck. "Due for a burning day soon, are we?" he asked as he took in the sorry state of the bird's plumage. He looked even worse than he had at the beginning of the week. The phoenix bobbed as if in agreement. "It's been a long time. It might do you the world of good. What I wouldn't give for a burning day of my own…" He trailed off, surprised at how wistful he'd sounded and shook his head. Now was not the time to get maudlin. He pushed the chair out and stood up, sweeping the wand into his hand as he maneuvered around the desk and stalked out of the office with renewed purpose. 

Ten minutes later he stood alone on the ramparts of the Astronomy Tower, the wind whipping his hair into his face and tangling his cloak around his ankles. At almost 4 AM it was far past the time any rogue students would be dallying here. His fingers curled and uncurled around the wand in his pocket. "Come on, Severus, what are you waiting for?" he muttered out loud. He tightened his grip and drew the wand, closing his eyes and pointing the tip at his temple. 

"Claro." 

He hissed as he experienced his mind sharpening--he hadn't expected it to feel that way. He stood for a few seconds with his eyes closed, getting used to the sensation of the spell clearing a space in his mind. He opened his eyes to the sound of beating wings and was surprised to see Fawkes landing on the crenellated wall next to him. "Come for the show, have we?" Severus asked. The phoenix cocked his head in the same way he had before. "Right then." He pointed the tip of the wand to the centre of his forehead.

"Conspicio Hermione." Severus intoned and as he did he was astonished and uplifted by Fawkes, who had begun to sing as he spoke the words to complete the spell.

***

Hermione Granger sat bolt upright on her mattress clutching her heart. She'd been having a nightmare, or at least she thought she had. Something didn't feel right. She thought about it for a moment, trying to put a finger on it, and suddenly it came to her. She was filled with an unrelenting yearning to leave this place. She didn't belong here. She wanted to go home. But where was home? She didn't belong in the Muggle world anymore, and where could she go in this Wizarding world where she'd be safe from the long reach of the Malfoys? She swallowed down the fear she had nowhere to go. It was better not to dwell on it. She thought about the evening with Professor Snape and raised both hands to rub her face vigorously. She hoped she'd read his intentions correctly. Could this feeling be an effect of the potion? A potion she didn't think had ever been used this way before. It was like he'd planted a homing device on her--for lack of a better description--one that made her listless.

She looked across the small room to Lavender's bed and frowned. It was empty. She hadn't returned yet and it had to be about four in the morning. Sometimes they were kept out all night. Other times it was because they were too hurt to be moved and had to be healed where they lay. She hoped it wasn't the latter in this case. "Shit!" Hermione swore in a whisper, worry creeping into her veins. Knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep again she wrapped the quilt around herself and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest as she stared at the locked door.

***

Bill Weasley was burning the midnight oil in his office at the Cairo branch of Gringotts Bank. He'd just gotten back from a hairy little expedition into Turkey, where he'd appropriated some interesting artifacts that had been unearthed at a Muggle archaeological dig. The naïve fools had no clue how dangerous the things they'd dug up truly were. No clue at all. It amazed him sometimes. He shook his head and picked up his cup of potent Turkish coffee, raising it to his lips and grimacing at the taste. He loved it, but every time he drank a cup of the stuff he felt like he was being smacked in the head by the equivalent of a caffeinated bludger. He had a feeling he'd need another cup before the night was through, though. The containment wards he needed to erect for tonight's knick-knacks and baubles were difficult and draining to cast and he couldn't go home until they were done. 

A scratching sound at the window alerted him to the presence of an owl. He unlatched the shutter and a small, nondescript brown owl swept past him to land on the back of one of his chairs. A closer look and he realized it was a stealth owl.

"Well, hello there." He greeted and reached out to scratch at the feathers on the bird's crown. "Do you have something for me?" The owl blinked at him, right eye first and then the left. "I guess you'll need something to eat before you go home." He offered his left over take-out to the bird and sat down to read the letter.

__

Bill,

It's been a while. Something's come up and we find ourselves needing a man with your talents. Though I can't talk about it in this letter, I can promise you it won't be boring. On the contrary, it'll be dangerous--right up your alley. Are you up for it? 

Let us know,

Ron 

P.S. Everyone says hello, especially that git, Fred.

Hmmm… If that wasn't an enticement, he didn't know what was. Danger, excitement, and chance to see everyone again. He did have a few holidays coming to him and after he was done tonight, the boss would understand if he needed a couple of days to recuperate. He scribbled out his reply on a fresh piece of parchment and after tying the scroll to the birds leg, he sent it on it's way before returning to his work.

*** 

A/N - I've done a couple of pieces of art so far for this chapter. Cut and paste the links to see them. 

http://photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/hpart5/vwp?.dir=/Karen%27s+Album&.src=gr&.dnm=scene+from+ANTR+chapter+6.jpg&.view=t&.done=http%3a//photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/hpart5/lst%3f%26.dir=/Karen%2527s%2bAlbum%26.src=gr%26.view=t 

http://photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp?.dir=/Art+from+A+Night+To+Remember&.src=gr&.dnm=Snape+and+Fawkes+-+ANTR6.jpg&.view=t&.done=http%3a//photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/lst%3f%26.dir=/Art%2bfrom%2bA%2bNight%2bTo%2bRemember%26.src=gr%26.view=t

I've also reloaded chapters 1 and 5 with links to some art I (and my friend Silene) did based on scenes from those chapters. Go check them out if you're interested. Scroll down to the bottom of those chapters to get the links.

Karen


	7. Nightmares and Dreams

The door to the room swung open at a quarter to seven in the morning. Hermione, who had finally dozed off with her head cradled on her quilt covered knees, woke with a start. Lavender was floated into the room by a Death Eater lackey using the Mobilicorpus spell. Milly, looking upset, hovered in the background waiting for the Death Eater to place Lavender on her bed and leave. It seemed like he was deliberately taking his time, enjoying the obvious discomfort of both Hermione and the little house-elf. When he finally left and the bolt shot home on the door behind him, Hermione leapt off her bed and knelt down on the floor beside Lavender's narrow bed. Using her hand she swept her friend's fringe back and placed a cool palm on the unconscious girl's forehead. She wasn't warm to the touch, on the contrary she was a little cool. Hermione studied Lavender's face. She had very dark circles--the result of heavy bruising--around her eyes, the kind you got from having your nose broken violently. Her friend's complexion wasn't very good either. It was just on the pink edge of grey. Without even thinking about it, Hermione lowered her fingers to rest on the pulse points of Lavender's neck. There was a pulse, albeit a little erratic and weak. What the Hell had they done to her?

Milly stepped forward and gently poked Hermione's shoulder to get her attention. "Please Miss, let me… they didn't let me touch her back in the other room. The mediwizard fixed the worst stuffs but Master was so very angry Milly couldn't get near to help. Milly too afraid of being killed and should iron her ears for it… please?" Hermione's head whipped around at Milly's words.

"Which Master?" she asked urgently as she grasped the stick-thin arm of the little elf.

"The really, really scary one…" Milly answered, her voice no more than a cracking whisper.

"Red eyes, slits for a nose and a slit for a mouth?" Hermione asked, praying silently the whole time. "That Master?" Milly nodded vehemently and Hermione tensed, even as she released her grip on the little one. This was not good. Not good at all. It seemed Lavender had been chosen as Voldemort's latest toy and here she'd been worrying all week that it would be her. 

Tom Riddle had only visited the brothel once before, and the only person he'd seen then was Hannah--every other day for a week and a half until her death. It wasn't shaping up to be a good scenario if past behaviour was anything to go on. It meant that once Lavender was healed on Monday he'd be back and her treatment at his hands would get worse with each visit. She raised her hands to her face and swiped at the tears that were all of a sudden spilling from her eyes.

***

Snape was sitting in the teachers' box watching Slytherin take a long drawn out beating from Ravenclaw and listening to the chattering around him. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sinistra, now Head of Slytherin, had a wager going as to the final score and were animatedly bantering back and forth about it. He tried to block out their voices and pulled his robes tighter around himself to shut out the chill November air that was settling in his bones in spite of the warming charm he'd cast, but it was to no avail. He couldn't concentrate on the match at all. In fact, since he'd activated the potion last night, he couldn't think about much other than Miss Granger. He knew she was somewhere to the southwest of Hogwarts, but the pull was quite weak so she was some distance away. He found himself wishing someone would catch the snitch so the game would be finally be over and he could leave. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck out here well into the evening. He wanted to check in with the resistance to see if they'd found the brothel--they'd have scoured the whole coastline by now, right? He also needed to look in on Fawkes, whose egg he had left nestled in the depths of the fire blazing away in his rooms. The phoenix had burned up last night, right after the spell to find Miss Granger and his song had been completed. Severus had had to lunge to catch the metallic egg from out of the blowing ashes before it rolled off the top of the wall and over the side of the tower.

He looked out at the quiddich pitch again as wild cheering erupted and was happy to see the Slytherin seeker had caught the Snitch. But it wasn't enough to win the game, Ravenclaw still had them beat by forty points. Oh, well. Any other day he'd have been extremely pissed off, but not today--he had other things on his mind. One thing, really, if you thought about it and her name was Hermione Granger. He wove a path through the press of celebrating bodies and made his way down the wooden staircase to the field below. He'd check to see if Fawkes had hatched again before apparating to Yorkshire for an update.

***

Bill had arrived just as everyone still at the Headquarters was sitting down to eat supper. Ron pulled out an empty chair next to where he sat and gestured for his brother to sit down. Fred was walking along the tables, large pot floating next to him, as he dished out portions into the large bowls on the table. He stopped next to Bill. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked. Bill shook his head and Fred ladled a healthy helping of his best Scotch Broth into the bowl in front of him. "Well, you're really in luck then. It was Ron's turn to cook yesterday, but it's my turn today." Everyone laughed--even Bill, who had heard the stories--as Ron winced, insulted. He knew his cooking was terrible, they didn't have to rub it in on a daily basis.

"How's Mum doing?" he asked, diverting attention away from the running joke at his expense.

"She's tired, but her spirits are good. You know she can't be kept down for long." Bill answered through a welcome mouthful of freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven and spread with fresh butter. The widowed matriarch of the Weasley clan was not in Britain. Molly was keeping a low profile in Malta, staying in a little cottage on the grounds of a holiday resort owned by a Muggleborn friend. She spent her days there knitting sweaters for the members of the resistance, among other things.

"How's George?" It was Fred's turn to ask the question, as he ladled soup out to the group sitting around the next table over.

"No change, but Mum refuses to give up hope." George was also in Malta, but he was in a vegetative state thanks to a Spell Mine he'd tripped during the last few days of the war. There had been such a tangled mix of curses and hexes in the mine that they still weren't sure what had caused his injuries or why he wasn't responding to the ministrations of his mother, a very competent mediwitch in her own right . "She's been working with him every day." He stopped speaking and started to eat his soup, hoping the others would take the hint and lay off the inquisition for a while. He wanted to forget how drained his mother had actually looked when he'd stopped in to see her on his way here and he wanted to forget how small and fragile George had seemed lying in the bright room with his almost translucent skin and flame-red hair fanned out on the pillow around his face. He stole a glance around the Hall and took in the faces of those sitting around him. They all looked worn and tired too. He was guiltily thankful he worked as a specialist for Gringotts and that the war didn't really touch his life the way it did everyone else here.

"Mum sent a few parcels with me." Bill told them when he finally pushed the empty bowl away. He reached into the pocket of his leather bomber jacket and pulled out three small boxes. "This one's for everyone here." He handed the red one to Padma. "This one is for you and Fred." He dropped a blue box onto Ron's outstretched hand and clasped his fingers tightly around the remaining box. "How's Gin?" He asked.

"Bigger than Aragog and twice as scary… and safely stashed away out of harm's reach." Ron answered. "She says we're patronizing her by keeping her away from any sort of trouble, but she doesn't get that she's too far along to be out gallivanting with the rest of us."

"She's too young to be having a baby." Bill frowned at the thought. 

"She's the same age Mum was when she had you." Fred pointed out. Both he and Ron had come to terms with Ginny's situation--Bill, however, had not. She was his youngest sibling and only sister, to boot.

"And just as stubborn as Mum, if not more so. What about Blaise?" 

"He hightailed it when we told everyone you were coming." Harry informed him, grinning as he recalled the stricken look on the Slytherin's face. "He's scared you're going to hex him into next week."

"I should, you know, just on principle. What the hell were they thinking? Bloody idiots!"

"They weren't thinking at all." Padma answered with a smile as she set the box he had given her on the table and restored it to its original size. As she lifted the lid to look inside she continued, "They were lost in the moment, Bill. It does happen. And Blaise turned his back on his family and peers who toe the Death Eater line. He's been cut off from his inheritance. He loves Ginny more than status and security--that should say something of his character--he really is a good person, you know."

"Circe help us. How can I argue with that?" Bill sighed and absently played with his earring. "Alright then, I'll go see them later and mend some fences."

***

Lavender's eyes fluttered open and she turned her head to see Hermione sitting on the floor next to her bed, head cradled on arms that stretched across the knees that were drawn up to her chest. She felt like hell. Even her hair hurt. The horrific memories of what had happened last night came flooding back and she couldn't contain the hitching sob that escaped her lips. _Gods_, she thought to herself as pain flooded through her, it even hurt to breathe. She watched as Hermione started and looked up at her, eyes bloodshot from crying.

"Why so glum?" she asked, in a raspy voice--raw from a night of screaming--that didn't understand she was trying to be brave and cheery. But the front wasn't just for Hermione, it was for herself. If she didn't put on a face and force herself to get on with things, she'd just curl up in a ball in the corner of the room and wish for death to take her.

"Oh, Lavender." Hermione sat up and reached out to take her hand. She didn't say anything more. She didn't need to and besides, words could never be enough for what she wanted to say to her friend. Their silent communion was interrupted by a rap on the door, signaling the dinner hour.

"Do you think you can sit up?" Hermione asked. Lavender nodded and levered herself upright with a hissing breath. 

"Oh, sweet Merlin's beard! I feel like I've been hit by the Knight Bus." 

"And I'm sure I look like it was parked on my face, what with the amount of crying I've done in the past twelve hours." Hermione replied with a sniff. Lavender laughed at the comment and winced, drawing a hand up to cradle ribs she'd known had been broken the night before.

"Ow… Don't make me laugh, Hermione, please." She hissed again as she swung her legs off the side of her narrow bed.

"What's with the pair of us?" Hermione asked with a shake of her head as she helped Lavender stand. "How can we still crack jokes at a time like this?"

"Because there's nothing else we can do." Even though her legs were trembling from the effort she forced herself to move, leaning heavily on Hermione for support. They made their way out of the room slowly, as with every step Lavender felt she'd faint dead away from the pain.

"Everyone will be really happy to see us. I didn't go down to breakfast or lunch. I had no appetite and wasn't about to leave you. It looked touch and go there for a while this morning. Milly was exhausted when she finished."

"I don't doubt it. They must be beside themselves with worry. I mean it's one thing for one person not to show for one meal, but it's something else entirely for two people to miss two meals." 

"At the rate we're moving, it'll be three meals." Hermione commented offhandedly. Lavender wheezed, drew another hissing breath and dug her nails purposefully into Hermione's forearm.

"Didn't I tell you to stop making me laugh?"

***

Snape portkeyed into the Hall just as they were cleaning up after supper. He was surprised to see Bill Weasley sitting talking with Potter and wondered what they'd found to warrant calling the curse breaker in from Egypt. He strode across the room nodding acknowledgements to everyone and, without being invited, pulled out a chair and sat down next to Bill.

"Headmaster," Harry acknowledged his presence with a question, "did it work?"

"It seems to have." 

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I can feel her. At Hogwarts I knew she was somewhere to the southwest, but still quite far away."

"And now?" Harry asked. Snape closed his eyes for a moment to get his bearings. 

"And now she is directly to the west of us. We're closer to her here than when I was at Hogwarts, but still some ways away."

"Well, that settles it then. It's got to be the place we found." Fred chipped in as he came to join them.

"You've found it?" It was Snape's turn to ask the question.

"We're almost positive." Harry replied. "We found a place that fits the bill on St. Patrick's Isle, just off the coast of the Isle of Man, and it's so heavily warded it's not funny. That's why we've called Bill in, as it looks like we'll need all the help we can get to disable all the wards."

"Harry was just filling me in on the place. I'd like to take a look for myself , though. Want to come?" Bill cocked his head in the Headmaster's direction.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Severus replied, itching to see how the spell would feel at a much closer proximity. Already, the pull of the Vestigium Teneo was much stronger than it had been at Hogwarts and it had almost driven him to distraction then.

***

Hermione and Lavender had both fallen back into bed, exhausted, when they were returned to their room after supper. Even though the food had helped, they were totally drained, especially Lavender, who had been visibly trembling from her efforts not even halfway up the first flight of stairs. Milly had appeared and fed Lavender a number of potions before tucking the thin blanket up around her neck. Before the house-elf left, she'd told Hermione, with much apology, to expect to be called at midnight. That left her with four hours in which she could catch some shut-eye. Using a meditative technique she employed far too often for her liking, she cleared her mind and was soon fast asleep.

__

Hermione found herself walking through a field that had just started to yellow as Autumn unwillingly yielded its grip to winter. She could hear waves crashing and gulls calling on the wind--a wind laden with the smell of sea air. The feelings she'd been experiencing since Professor Snape had used the Vestigium Teneo potion had magnified over the past little while and she wasn't sure why. She was frightened by the intensity of the feelings. She scanned the horizon to get her bearings and found she was walking in a meadow that sloped gently to the coast, giving way to coarser and sparser dune grass and sandy hills. Hermione revelled in the fact she could feel the cold breeze ruffle and lift her white cloak and cause her honey brown hair to dance. She raised her hand to sweep said unruly hair back off her face. Was there someone standing there, down on the beach? She thought she'd seen dark robes rippling in the wind. She squinted and smiled. There was someone there, her mind wasn't playing tricks on her. She started to walk down to the shore and as she got closer she realized the person standing with their back to her and staring out to sea was Professor Snape. She was surprised at the smile that suddenly formed on her lips.

A strong gust of wind caught her cloak as she moved to stand behind him. Looking down she was surprised to see she was wearing a delicate white silk robe, more fit for the bedroom than outside on a cold and windy day like today. She smiled as some rational part of her mind sighed over her subconscious choice of clothes.

Professor Snape turned and looked over his shoulder at her. She drank in his profile as she waited for him to speak. Finally he did. "Ah, Miss Granger. How are you doing?"

Hermione thought about his question. For some reason she felt calm. Was it his presence? Was it because they were in a place that had no bad associations for her? She wasn't sure. She smiled even more broadly and he raised an eyebrow that spoke of his wish for her to elaborate on her reaction to his query. 

"I'm fine, but everything else isn't." She watched as he frowned and turned to face her.

"What has happened?" he asked. 

"Tom Riddle happened, sir. He's chosen Lavender. The last girl he chose died within a week and a half." 

"I see." He answered simply as his frown deepened and she was glad for it. She didn't think she could handle sarcasm of his caliber right now.

"Did the potion work?" She asked, wondering at how strange the dream she was having was.

"Yes." he raised an arm and pointed out to the sea. "Do you see that island?" She nodded, looking out across the bay to the island and the lights of the large and heavily warded Victorian Gothic manor house resting almost on the edge of the cliffs there. "That's where you are, Miss Granger. Right now, you're in the dormer room on the far upper left-hand side of the mansion"

"Really?" she asked, wondering, as she looked up at the darkened window. Now it was his turn to nod. She couldn't help but smile at him and was surprised to see he had a grin on his face to match her own.

"Really."

Everything suddenly got hazy as she was wrenched from her dream by reality. She was being shaken awake and, after an initial moment of disorientation, was angry at the fact. Gods, was it going on midnight already? Hermione groaned and rolled off her bed to sit up gracelessly as she tried to crack her grainy eyes open.

***

Harry had led Bill and the Headmaster to the periphery of the harbour town of Peel, a quaint little place on the northwestern side of the Isle of Man--a place steeped in a magic all its own. The trio stood on the shoreline looking out at St. Patrick's Isle. As Harry couldn't apparate for fear of leaving a wand signature the ministry could track, they had zipped here on broomstick. Knowing where they were headed had saved a lot of grief and they'd flown as the owl flies, directly west--cloaks whipping in the wind behind them as they flew--until they'd set down in a field just a few hundred yards from the shore.

Severus was having trouble concentrating. Even more so as every mile passed and he got closer to their destination, the harder he'd had to grip the broom handle. When they'd finally touched down, he'd found himself staggering as he struggled to find his legs.

He'd found her. Correction, they'd found her. His heart was hammering a staccato beat in his chest and he reeled, startling the other two.

"Are you all right, Headmaster?" Harry asked as he came over and gripped his elbow to help steady him. Severus gathered his wits together and straightened up nodding.

"I'm fine, Mr. Potter. I'm having a little difficulty due to the tracking potion." He shook off Harry's hand.

"And?" Harry's question was monosyllabic, but Snape didn't mind.

"This is the place. I'm sure of it." Bill walked over to stand next to the Headmaster.

"You're not kidding, Severus. Do you feel the wards?" He asked, one expert on the Dark Arts to another. Snape nodded and Bill turned away to perform a few semantic spells. A crease formed between his brows as he noted the results of his work. "Well, shite and sugar…" he shook his head. "This place is warded heavier than the Tower of London, and that place is a virtually impenetrable."

"Not good." Snape replied. "That involves quite a bit of work on our part."

"How long do you think it would take to bust all these wards down?" Harry's gaze flicked between the two men.

"Three or four days at the least. We've got to circumvent them in a way that doesn't tip them off to what we're doing." Bill answered.

"And it's going to take more than just the two of us. We're going to need Remus and Blaise Zabini too." Snape added. Bill raised an eyebrow as Severus spoke the last name. "He's good and we're going to need his help." Snape elaborated, understanding where Bill's reticence was coming from. 

"And that's just for the wards. We've got nineteen people to break out of there. It's not going to be easy and we can't take it lightly." Harry added seriously. Snape found himself actually feeling proud of the boy for a fleeting moment, which was an unusual experience. The man he was now was a far cry from both his father and the person he'd been in school. 

Suddenly, he found himself unable to keep the effects of the tracking spell at bay and stumbled to his knees. Before Harry could reach him he lurched to his feet and turned to stare in the direction of St. Patrick's Isle, eyes rolled up into the back of his head so that only the whites showed.

"What the hell is going on?" Bill asked, taking the whole thing in.

"I've no bloody idea." Harry answered. They watched the Headmaster turn to look over his shoulder.

"Ah, Miss Granger. How are you doing?" 

"What?" Harry frowned and moved to shake Snape. He was stopped by Bill, who had reached out a hand to grasp his wrist. He looked over at the eldest of the Weasley siblings questioningly.

"Don't!" Bill instructed as he pulled Harry's hand down. "Let him be."

"What has happened?" Snape's voice cut through their conversation and they both turned to look at him, wondering what was going on.

"I see." Severus spoke again and Bill and Harry were itching to know what the other side of the conversation he was having consisted of.

"Yes." They watched as Snape raised his arm and pointed at St. Patrick's Isle. "Do you see that island?" Harry and Bill turned to follow Snape's hand. "That's where you are, Miss Granger. Right now, you're in the dormer room on the far upper left-hand side of the mansion"

"Is he really talking to Hermione?" Harry wondered out loud.

"I hope so," Bill replied, "otherwise we've got even more problems than we had before."

"Really." Snape spoke again and after a second he stumbled forward as he was released from the spell. When he'd finally recovered enough to stand up, he turned to his companions.

"Apparently, we have another complication."

***

A/N - I'm really glad that everyone who's along for the ride is having a good time. So far, there's only one pic done for this chapter, and it's courtesy of the wonderful Silene. Everyone remember to give her hand of applause. Here's the URL, cut and paste it to see the scene, if need be.

http://photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp?.dir=/Art+from+A+Night+To+Remember&.src=gr&.dnm=scene+from+ANTR+chapter+7.jpg&.view=t&.done=http%3a//photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/lst%3f%26.dir=/Art%2bfrom%2bA%2bNight%2bTo%2bRemember%26.src=gr%26.view=t

More fanart links will be added as the pics are drawn, so check back and scroll down to the bottom of the various chapters on a semi regular basis. ^_^

Karen


	8. Ripples

Padma handed the Headmaster a steaming hot mug of tea. Strong and black with a slice of lemon, just how he liked it. Although he was still trembling slightly from his experience on the beach, he was feeling much better since they'd portkeyed back to the Headquarters deep under Snape Castle, as if the distance he'd put between himself and Miss Granger had done the trick. As he sat back in the chair and sipped the bitter liquid, savouring its taste, he thought about what had happened and how it had been possible. It had to be a side effect of the potion, there was no question about it. But what had it done exactly? This was bad. He needed to know more about what it was and how it worked. It wouldn't do for him to suddenly trance in front of staff and students or in the presence of any of the Death Eaters or Lord Voldemort. If the latter happened, he'd be as good as dead on the spot.

"Better?" Padma asked solicitously. She had been watching him and was worried. He looked up at her with tired and burning eyes and nodded.

"Much, thank you." He answered. 

Harry turned and walked back from the fireplace, where he'd been shuttling messages through the private floo system to the other resistance cells. One message was to call Remus in and the other was to summon Blaise back from his self-imposed exile. If they were going to move they'd have to do it soon. The Headmaster hadn't talked about what had happened out there tonight yet, but Harry had been there and didn't need to be told the stakes had just gotten a lot higher. Snape said he wanted to wait until all the players were assembled so he'd just have to go through the story once. Harry knew where he was coming from. How many times had he repeated the same story to a new audience over the years. Far too many to remember. They would have to have a plan for the rescue in place by the time the wards came down--one with no flaws in it that could cause trouble for them. It looked like they'd be up all night brainstorming. He poured himself a cup of tea, added a drop of milk to cool it and sat down at the table across from the Headmaster to await the other arrivals.

***

Hermione's mind was reeling. First she'd been yanked out of the strangest and most real dream she'd ever had, and now it seemed she'd been thrust into another surreal situation. Here she lay, sprawled out naked on blood red satin sheets, offering succour to a tormented Draco Malfoy. Like the last time, he hadn't beaten her, just clung to her like a lost child, mumbling complaints she couldn't understand against her skin. What was with him? He'd never acted like this before. He'd always been cruel and deliberate and enjoyed behaving that way. It unsettled her that she couldn't predict his behaviour as she didn't recognize the snivelling form of this man lying at her breast. His features were drawn and pinched and the set of his shoulders spoke of great unhappiness. She shifted to get more comfortable and he squeezed her harder against him. _Gods, this boy has some serious problems, _she thought to herself. 

"Tell me you love me, Hermione." He demanded in a petulant voice. She didn't want to answer, but the Imperius rose up and forced her.

"I… love… you… Draco." She fought against the words and swallowed down the pain and disgust at how easy it was for him to make her say and do things she didn't want to. She was happy her answer had sounded flat and forced, but kept the smile inside. It wouldn't do to provoke him, not when she was so unsure of what was going on with him. She drew back into the pillow as he raised himself up on one elbow to look at her, silvery white hair falling in a sweep across one grey eye. She was surprised at the look of abject disappointment on his face and waited for him to say something, anything, to break the moment.

"How was Snape?" he finally asked. She was thrown by the question. She'd been expecting anything but that and her eyes showed her confusion.

"What?" she asked, unsure of exactly what he meant.

"How was he when he visited you? Was he good?" No, she didn't want to answer this and closed her eyes.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked, biting down the bile rising in her throat as she fought the curse. Though Lucius had cast the more powerful Imperius, Draco had cast his first--she was supposed to obey him, first and foremost. 

"Tell me." Draco demanded, rolling to lie with elbows propped on either side of her body, pinning her under him. Hermione closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at him.

"Gentle," she whispered, "and considerate," she felt tears leak from the corner of her eyes at the memory, "…a diamond." she finished. Her admission was greeted by silence and she cringed inwardly as she steeled herself for a blow. None came. She opened her eyes to find Draco staring at her, an unfathomable look in his shadowed eyes. His lowered his lips to cover hers, but instead of the usual hungry possession and biting and the bruising fingers digging into her flesh, his touch was feather-light.

"Like this?" he asked softly against her lips before claiming her mouth again. 

__

Oh gods, when did I step through the looking glass?

***

Within the half hour, the summoned resistance members were stepping out of the fireplace and sweeping the soot off their cloaks and robes. Sirius and Cho had come with Remus from the Welsh cell. Ginny strode across the Hall in front of Blaise to come to a halt in front of her oldest brother. Bill looked up at her standing there, hands on her hips, displaying her advanced pregnant form proudly. The look on her face was just daring him to say anything about her situation. And she struck him as being so like their mother in that moment that it was painful to look at her. If she was hoping for a fight, she'd be disappointed.

"Hello, Gin," he greeted instead, before turning to acknowledge the young man who hovered behind her a little nervously. "Hello, Blaise." After his earlier talk with Padma, he'd decided to take the high road and give the young Slytherin the benefit of the doubt. Everyone else around here seemed to like him well enough and there was more than enough trouble in all their lives right now without something as little as this making waves. 

"Uh, hello Bill." Blaise answered with an uncertain smile. Clearly, the greeting was not what he'd been expecting after the howler the eldest Weasley sibling had sent them both when he'd learned of Ginny's pregnancy. Of course, Ginny being Ginny, she'd sent him one of her own right back. He glanced over at her to gauge her reaction. Their half truce since then was prickly at best. Her mouth was gaping and she looked like a fish suddenly out of water as she opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again without speaking. Bill smiled. He loved throwing his sister off balance. He held out a small purple box to her.

"From Mum," he explained as she looked at it, "mostly stuff for the baby, but there are some things for you both as well." Ginny restored the box to its full size and started laying the contents of it out on the table before her. There were a number of delicately knit booties and bonnets, fine crocheted dresses and robes and thick and warm receiving blankets. She held her sniffles in check as she ran her hands over the items so lovingly made by her mother, but couldn't stop her bottom lip from quivering. Then she pulled out a delicately knit (but wonderfully warm looking), pale blue woolen shawl with a note pinned to it.

Ginny,

To keep you warm on all those mornings you'll greet the dawn with a restless baby in your arms.

Love, 

Mum

Now the tears did flow unchecked and Blaise moved to comfort her, rubbing her upper arms and bending to whisper in her ear. "Sshh… It's okay, love."

"I know, I know, but I miss her and I'm all big and pregnant and hormonal and…" she sniffed, trying to stop her nose from running. "Do you have a hanky?" Blaise smiled indulgently and offered her the pristine square of linen he pulled from an inside pocket of his robes. After a moment, she was mostly restored to her former state and he folded the abused hanky up and stuffed it back into his pocket. She hugged the shawl to her chest for a long moment before throwing it around her shoulders and returning her attention to her mother's gifts. 

Harry, Fred and Ron were peering over Ginny's shoulder as she finished unpacking the contents of the box and burst out laughing when she the last thing she pulled out was a large, black wool jumper with an ornate green B knit into the front left breast.

"It's official, Blaise, no-one can deny it," Ron managed to squeak through his snorting laughter, "you're one of us when Mum knits you a Weasley jumper." Blaise glared at them all, even as Ginny's tinkling laugh joined the mix, but his hazel eyes were smiling.

When the laughter had finally died down, Harry called everyone to attention. "Right then, let's get started with the reason we called you here. Headmaster?" He handed the chair off to Snape who had been sitting quietly, observing their easy camaraderie as an outsider would.

"You all know that I intended to use the Vestigium Teneo potion as a means of locating Miss Granger." He looked around the Hall as they nodded. "It worked. Miss Granger is in the heavily warded manor house found on the Isle of Man." The news was greeted by an excited buzz of comments and murmurs. He held up his hand to silence them. "However, there are some complications." The chatter stilled.

"How big are these complications, Severus?" Remus asked.

"Quite big, I'm afraid. There's a side effect to the potion, for one thing, and then there's the added problem that we're now working against the clock."

"What do you mean by working against the clock?" This time it was Sirius who posed the question. He stared coolly at Snape. They still didn't see eye to eye, even though they'd put their differences aside at Dumbledore's request a couple of years ago when the war was in full swing and their animosity towards each other quite a liability to the cause.

"Let me start at the beginning. First off, the potion has never been used to track a person before and I had no time to test it out beforehand, so I was flying blind. I can tell where Miss Granger is. It's not a big deal at a distance, but the pull is stronger the nearer I get to her."

"And this is a problem how exactly?"

"An inanimate object doesn't interact with the user of the potion the way an animate object does. You can fix it in your mind and know where it is. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. However, the closer I am to Miss Granger, the more aware I am of her state of mind and her emotions. It's very distracting to say the least."

"So what was all that on the beach then?" Bill spoke this time. Having seen the side effect of the potion, the curse-breaker was curious as to what had actually happened from Snape's point of view.

"You are all familiar with that uncomfortable physical feeling you get when using a portkey?" He looked from face to face to face. "Like your stomach dropping out from under you?" Another round of answering nods. "That's the feeling I got when we stepped off the brooms at the seashore, but magnified tenfold."

"No wonder you stumbled." Harry commented, relieved to finally understand what Snape went through on the beach. It had been very disconcerting for him to see Severus Snape as human. He received a menacing glare for his observation. Snape did not appreciate him sharing that piece of information with everyone.

__

Shut up, Mr. Potter. The Headmaster silently willed.

"It is controllable the further away I am from her but the closer I get, the more overwhelming the feeling. I feel that now I know about this effect, I can counter it but it may take some research to pinpoint how."

"Time that we don't have, according to you." Sirius chimed in. Snape had been expecting it.

"Exactly." He answered. "Bill, have you determined how long it will take us to dismantle those wards?"

"Three days, working around the clock in teams of two. And that's with four teams on the go--working in six hour rotating shifts. We have to bring another two crews on board as this is going to be more work than I first anticipated and working on complicated wards and weaves for longer than six hours at a time turns your brain to mush."

"Can't we work faster than that?" Sirius frowned.

"Not if we want to keep ourselves beneath their notice." Bill replied. "In order for us to have the element of surprise when the wards are all dismantled, we have to be careful and cover our tracks as we go. You want to see the set up they've got in place. Even if we didn't want to hide what we're going to do, it would still be quite the challenge." He shook his head, both in admiration and frustration at what he'd seen.

"I'm in if you need another curse breaker." Cho told Bill.

"Are you good?"

"Did Dumbledore have a sweet tooth?" She retorted and he smiled. Saucy and exotically pretty, an enticing package if ever there was one.

"She is good, Bill. I'd count her in." Lupin, who was head of the Welsh cell, spoke up for his cohort. After Cedric's death, Cho had thrown herself into learning everything she could about the dark arts and how to combat them. It had become an obsession she couldn't let go of, and if circumstances had been different, she'd have made a wonderful DADA teacher. "Now there's just the question of who the other three are going to be."

"I'm in." Sirius spoke.

"Sirius, you know very well your strong suits are Transfiguration and Charms, not Curses and Hexes. I'll grant that you're good, but you're too impatient and hot-tempered for work like this. And anyway, I think you'll need to be coordinating the rescue with Harry and Ron." Remus reasoned with his friend. Snape stifled a laugh at the look on Black's face. It was priceless.

"We are going to have to start tomorrow." he addressed them.

"That soon, Headmaster?" Harry questioned. 

"Unfortunately, yes, Mr. Potter. According to Miss Granger, we have approximately a week and a half at the most if we want to rescue all nineteen prisoners at the mansion." 

"Why is that?" Padma was curious as to his timetable.

"Voldemort has visited the brothel again." The revelation was greeted with silence but the looks of horror on everyone's faces said it all. "The last time he did, their numbers dropped to nineteen from twenty."

"But how do you know we have a week and a half?" Cho was puzzled.

"I don't--that's Miss Granger's estimate. Apparently the last girl he visited died after a week and a half of his attentions."

"Sweet Merlin…" Cho shook her head, trying to clear the horrific montage of images her mind's eye had conjured up.

"Do you know who it is? It's not Hermione is it?" Ginny asked, sitting forward with a frown on her face and a hand on her stomach. Her fear and repulsion was being transmitted to the baby, who had started to kick.

"Yes, I know who it is and no it's not Miss Granger." Snape reassured her.

"Then who?" Harry asked, feeling guilty that he'd been relieved at the news it wasn't his friend.

"Miss Brown." Snape's gaze flicked to Ron who had flinched at his words. There was a history between the youngest Weasley son and Lavender Brown and it hadn't been going well at all between them when the war began in earnest. They had fought day in and day out over the littlest thing and between their constant fighting and the stresses of being at war, their relationship had disintegrated well before the time the final battle had occurred.

"Lavender?" Padma's voice cracked as she spoke the girl's name. Her sister and Lavender had been joined at the hip at Hogwarts and, as a result, she'd spent a lot of time with her and knew her better than anyone else in the room. Well, anyone but Ron, that was. "Since when?"

"Last night."

"So why didn't you come to us last night with that information, then?" Sirius demanded.

"I didn't know until tonight."

What?!? What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's part of the side effect of the potion I was speaking about. I'm not sure of the circumstances, but somehow Miss Granger and I communicated directly through some sort of trance while I was on the beach across from her prison."

"Well, isn't this just friggin' wonderful." Sirius shook his head.

"That's bad, isn't it?" Ginny asked.

"Quite. Especially as I don't know exactly what it was that triggered the trance, so I have no idea what conditions have to be met in order to have it happen again. I do think that our proximity to one another factors heavily into the equation, though."

"So what are we going to do about it?" Ginny wondered.

"We're going to be far too busy to worry about that when there's so much more to for us to get done. For example, how do we transport them away from the scene? Portkeys? Something else? Mass apparition isn't something I'd recommend as there may be some who are unconscious or injured when we take them out. And I haven't even begun to touch on the battle that we'll have to face in order to get to that point."

"And where are we going to put them all?" Ginny asked, her mother's practicality winning through, as she thought about everything that needed to be done to clothe, feed and house nineteen extra bodies. "Let me know where we'll be putting them all and I'll prepare everything at this end. I've got this overwhelming urge to nest and nurture, so you should take advantage of it."

"Don't worry, we will." Harry replied with a smile. "Now, if we've got to start in on the wards tomorrow, we've got to get those teams drawn up. Bill?"

"Anyone have any suggestions for the other curse breakers? We still need three more on the crew."

"How good do they have to be?" Padma asked.

"Better than average. We can't afford accidents."

I'd suggest Neville Longbottom, Penelope Clearwater and myself then. Otherwise, you end up going out of the trusted circles and that's too big a risk for us to take."

"How long will it take to get them here?" Bill was drafting up teams, scratching names and a roster out on a piece of parchment in front of him..

"By first thing tomorrow morning, I'm sure."

"Bill, I'd appreciate it if you scheduled me for the midnight shift and didn't partner me with Mr. Longbottom." Severus commented dryly as he looked over Bill's shoulder to see what he was writing.

"Why? I thought he was good, according to Padma."

"He is good," Ron clarified, "just not at potions."

"Ah, I get it now." Bill smiled, wrote a few more things on the parchment and put the quill down. "How does this sound? I'll take the first shift with Blaise, then Penny and Neville will take the second shift, they'll hand things off to Cho and Remus, and Severus and Padma will take the last shift and hand off in the morning to myself and Blaise again, blah, blah, blah..."

"It sounds fine," Padma answered as Remus, Cho and Blaise nodded in agreement, "but I have a question for the Headmaster." Snape raised an eyebrow, inviting her to continue. "Will you be able to handle such intricate work while fighting off the side effect of the Vestigium Teneo potion? You said you thought proximity was a factor, and you'll be very close to Hermione, closer than you were when you tranced on the beach." 

"That remains to be seen, Miss Patil, but if the gods are merciful I'll have had part of a quiet and uneventful day at Hogwarts to work on _that_ particular problem before our turn comes."

"And if they're not merciful?" Harry pushed. Padma's question had given him something else to worry about.

"We'll find out, won't we?" 

***

A/N - It's been a while since the last update. Real life can be so time consuming. ^_^ For those of you who are still following along, thank you.

There are 5 links to pictures at the end of this chapter. Four are done by me and one is done by my friend and fellow HP artist, Sidsel. She sent me a cover for my fanfic in the mail. Thanks, Sidsel!

Here's the link to her pic, it's done with colouring pencil and ink and she was inspired by the Moulin Rouge publicity shot.

http://photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp?.dir=/Art+from+A+Night+To+Remember&.src=gr&.dnm=ANTR+cover+by+Sidsel.jpg&.view=t&.done=http%3a//photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/lst%3f%26.dir=/Art%2bfrom%2bA%2bNight%2bTo%2bRemember%26.src=gr%26.view=t

The second pic is a portrait of Draco Malfoy.

http://photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp?.dir=/Art+from+A+Night+To+Remember&.dnm=ANTR+Draco.jpg&.src=gr&.done=http%3a//photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp%3f.dir=/Art%2bfrom%2bA%2bNight%2bTo%2bRemember%26.dnm=ANTR%2bBlaise.jpg%26.src=gr

The third pic is a portrait of Ginny in all her pregnant glory and wearing the shawl her mum sent her.

http://photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp?.dir=/Art+from+A+Night+To+Remember&.src=gr&.dnm=ANTR+Ginny.jpg&.view=t&.done=http%3a//photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/lst%3f%26.dir=/Art%2bfrom%2bA%2bNight%2bTo%2bRemember%26.src=gr%26.view=t

The fourth pic is a portrait of Blaise Zabini.

http://photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp?.dir=/Art+from+A+Night+To+Remember&.dnm=ANTR+Blaise.jpg&.src=gr&.done=http%3a//photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp%3f.dir=/Art%2bfrom%2bA%2bNight%2bTo%2bRemember%26.dnm=ANTR%2bDraco.jpg%26.src=gr

And last, but not least, is a picture of Bill and Severus, from the scene where Bill is making up the curse breaker roster.

http://photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/denofdivinity/vwp?.dir=/Art+from+A+Night+To+Remember&.dnm=Bill+and+Severus++from+ANTR+8.jpg&.src=gr

Hope you like the chapter and the art.

Karen ^_^


	9. Cause and Effect

"Hermione, I'm really scared." Lavender was almost back to normal after her first encounter with Lord Voldemort--physically, that was. Mentally, she was a wreck. "He's coming back tonight…" Hermione watched her friend try to get her shaking under control. Both girls were sitting across from each other with their feet pulled up in front of them on Lavender's bed. 

"I know this sounds stupid and trite, Lavender, but try not to think about it." It was hard to think of something else she could say.

Lavender snorted a half laugh that was also a half sob. "It's _all_ I think about. You have no idea what it feels like to have those awful clawed hands on you." Hermione couldn't fathom it even after all she'd endured over the past months and her mind recoiled at the images her imagination tried to form. Lavender continued, "He's not even human any more. The thought of how his mouth feels on my skin makes me want to vomit--and he's far more cruel and vicious than anyone else who has visited me in all the time I've been here, and you and I both know there have been some real winners. He lives and breathes evil, Hermione, pure evil." Hermione watched as Lavender turned her thoughts inwards, all the while fighting off the reaction of the Imperius Curse, which had risen up in response to her words. 

"Do you want me to teach you that eastern technique I was talking about? The one that helps you remove yourself mentally from a situation?" Hermione asked after a moment of silence. She needed something to do. She was listless and had spent the day fighting down her own jitters as the hours passed. And if she was scared shitless, how was it that Lavender was even able to function? The girl had strength unknown to even herself. Every time she looked at her friend, she wanted to burst into tears. 

Lunch today hadn't been great either, everyone had been so subdued and serious, with the gentle and emotional Claire tearing up and stifling a sob every time she looked across the table at Lavender. Hermione had wanted to shake them, to tell them to stop making things worse, but the words wouldn't come. She couldn't yell at them in front of Lavender. Things hadn't been that bad with Hannah but then again they hadn't known they'd lose her and how she'd die. They had had three months to let the circumstances of Hannah's death sink in and consequently had no hope in their hearts for Lavender. She was as good as dead as far as everyone round that table was concerned. And Hermione couldn't open her mouth to tell any one of them, even Lavender, of the strange hope that Professor Snape had restored in her own heart. She wasn't even sure what he was actually up to but prayed whatever it was would work. She had even dreamt about him last night and in the dream he'd shown her where she was being held captive. It had felt so very real, what with the smell of the sea and the sounds of the gulls crying over the crashing of the waves as they glided above them, riding on drafts of air. She shook her head a little to clear it of those images.

"For what it's worth…" Lavender muttered in a voice now devoid of the emotions she had just shown a moment before. 

"Anything's worth a try, Lavender. Humour me?" she pleaded. The blonde girl nodded and Hermione smiled at her as she reached out to take her hand and squeeze it. "Thanks."

***

He'd just come back from his suite of rooms a few minutes earlier after checking on the newly risen Fawkes--he'd left the young bird staggering around on the floor of his sitting room like a dazed and drunken man. The process had been harder this time around, which might have had something to do with the phoenix's confusion. He didn't usually hatch to be reborn, but the majority of his hot ashes had solidified into an egg to keep from being blown off the top of the Astronomy tower and scattered by the strong November winds. Severus shook his head. _Was nothing easy anymore?_ After pouring himself a strong cup of tea, he resumed the task he'd begun that morning of analysing the side effects he was experiencing from the Vestigium Teneo potion. 

"Headmaster, are you there?" Professor Sprout's head appeared in the fireplace of Snape's office. Severus stood up and walked around the desk to stand in front of the fire so she could see him. Right away he was wary, as she usually came to visit him in person when she wanted to talk.

"Yes, I'm here. What's the matter?" he asked.

"I thought you'd like to know that Lucius Malfoy is on his way up to see you."

"Where is he now?" he inquired, a deep frown creasing his brows. His little problem was something he didn't want Malfoy to know about.

"The main staircase."

"Thanks for the warning." Snape nodded in acknowledgement. Professor Sprout nodded back and smiled before disappearing from the fireplace. He had about four minutes before Malfoy would be here, time enough to put everything out of sight and be sitting behind the desk studying the school ledgers when he arrived. He instructed the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to his office to let Malfoy pass when he got there and quickly went about the business of cleaning things up.

"Ah, Lucius, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, looking up from his perusal of the exam schedules when Malfoy finally got there.

"Come now, Severus, we always fence like this... Does there have to be a reason?" Malfoy replied pleasantly as he sat down in one of the squashy armchairs on the other side of the desk, answering Snape's question with one of his own.

"No," Severus began, "but you're so busy these days with your Ministry duties it's a rare thing for you to visit Hogwarts at all, even though you head the Board of Governors. Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thanks." Lucius looked around the walls of Snape's office, his gaze met by the glares of many past Headmasters and Headmistresses--all the way back to the founders. He focussed in on Snape again. "You know, Severus, Narcissa mentioned the other night that it has been rather a long time since we've gotten together. That's why I'm here, really. She sent me over to invite you to dinner at Malfoy Manor tonight. It'll be a quite small and rather informal gathering, I can assure you."

"I'm flattered, Lucius, but I'm really very busy." Snape begged off, gesturing offhandedly at the exam schedule on the desk in front of him.

"Lord Voldemort will be there. He was pleased to hear we were inviting you as well, you know. He's still of the mind that you should get out more." Severus was well and truly backed against the wall. He couldn't refuse to go if the Dark Lord was expecting him to attend.

"What time would you like me to be there?" he finally asked after a moment of silence.

"How does seven sound?" Lucius asked, hiding his smile. He and Narcissa had lain in bed last night plotting into the small hours.

"It sounds fine." Severus replied, forcing a smile and hoping it didn't look too false.

"Wonderful!" Lucius proclaimed. "We'll see you then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some business to attend to at the Ministry." Snape stood up and moved to accompany Malfoy downstairs. Lucius waved him away. "Don't bother, I know you're busy so I'll see myself out." 

***

"We've got the whole network of wards mapped out and charmed so that it's visible to us. You'll need to use Patefacio to charm your eyes to pick it up though, as they show in a different range than the one we usually see." Bill seemed animated as he filled Remus and Cho in on the work he had done on his shift with Blaise. "There's a problem, though." he continued.

"Great," Cho shook her head as she turned and paced back and forth--five paces each way, "just what we need--another problem. Don't we have enough of them already?" She stopped and gazed at Bill, awaiting enlightenment.

"This one isn't that horrible as problems go. I'd say it's more of an inconvenience." he told her finally.

"How's that?" Remus interjected.

"The oldest and most intricate wards are embedded in the base of the cliffs. We'll have to work underwater for part of the job."

"Balls and bloody bludgers!" Cho muttered, uttering a favourite oath of any Hogwarts students who happened to play for the house teams. Ever since she'd been intimately involved in the second task of the Tri-Wizard tournament, she'd had a bit of a phobia about being underwater and everyone knew it.

"Are you all right with this?" Bill asked. Cho hesitated a moment before nodding.

"I can handle it." She told him steadfastly, grinning at him and chewing her lower lip at the same time. He really hoped so. Working underwater was no picnic. It made their jobs all the more challenging and being afraid was not an option. 

"Good!" he flashed her his most winning smile and was pleased to see her relax. "We'll leave those wards until last, then. We'll strip them from the top down and when only the wards underwater are left, all four teams will work in rotation on shorter shifts until they're all gone."

"Sounds good. Those will be the ones that permeate the skeleton of the structure and the whole island, so they'll be the most important ones to disable." Remus agreed, impressed with what had been accomplished so far. "Now tell us, where did you leave off?"

***

Severus was on the doorstep of Malfoy Manor at precisely one minute to seven. He took a moment to calm and collect himself before raising a hand to knock on the door. He was happy to find that although the Manor was closer (geographically speaking) to the Isle of Man than the resistance base under Snape Castle, he could control his reactions to the potion. The pull was strong, but nothing a disciplined man like himself couldn't handle. He tamped down on the sensation. The only thing still worrying him, though, was the fact he might fall into another trance in the midst of this company of wolves.

The door was answered by the sour-faced Eiean Moriarty, Seneschal of the Malfoy household for the past fifty years. With a curt nod, he invited Snape inside and, after closing the door behind them, led the headmaster to the family dining room. Snape was reassured by the fact dinner was being served in the small room and not the larger room reserved for official functions. Moriarty held the door to the dining room open and motioned for Snape to enter, shutting the door behind him soundly, its echo hollow and flat.

"Severus, I'm so pleased you could join us." Narcissa Malfoy greeted, coming to the door to offer him one of her pale and slender hands. Snape lifted it to his lips and planted a kiss on the back of it, his eyes flicking to the table--hidden behind a screen of shoulder-length black hair as he did so--to see who was already seated there. Lord Voldemort was at the head of the table and Lucius sat next to him. Draco was seated across from his father, pointedly studying the tableware in front of him. 

"The pleasure is mine, Narcissa." Severus replied as the cool blonde next to him led him to the table. 

The games had begun. He pushed her chair in as she sat then moved to the head of the table. 

"My Lord." Severus knelt in obeisance before Voldemort and was rewarded by the touch of the Dark Lord's hand on the crown of his head.

"Severus." 

Just one sibilant word in greeting, but along with the touch it was like a benediction. Snape stood up when Voldemort removed his hand. He moved wordlessly to take the empty seat next to Draco. This evening was not going to be fun.

Snape had been more than happy to let Lucius and Narcissa lead the conversation with Lord Voldemort. He really hadn't much to say about anything they would find interesting and found it more profitable to listen, sifting the contents of the conversation for anything that might come in useful. When questions were directed his way, he'd answer them as economically as possible without coming across as rude and, when pressed, filled Voldemort in on the status of a number of different potions he had in varying stages of production for him and smiled and nodded in all the appropriate places. They'd bought it, for the most part. Except for Draco, it seemed.

Severus noticed that Draco hadn't really touched his food, but was drinking the vintage wine from his fathers cellar like it was going out of style. He noticed Narcissa watching Draco out of the corner of her eye as she listened to the conversation between her husband and the Dark Lord. Her smiling face never betrayed a thing. Of course, after all these years it wouldn't, but he could still tell she was worried. He could feel Malfoy Junior's eyes on him throughout the meal and wondered what was going through his mind. It wasn't like Draco to be this unguarded or careless in his behaviour. The boy had been adept at hiding his feelings for everything except Harry Potter since well before he started Hogwarts. 

As the house-elves brought and served dessert to the diners, Lucius deftly steered the subject of the conversation round to Snape's visits to the brothel.

"Have you found your visits to our little 'spa' rejuvenating, Severus?" he asked the headmaster. It took Snape a moment to read through the euphemism. 

"Indeed I have, Lucius." He answered politely, aware that everyone's gaze was upon him. "It's a perfect place to rid one's self of frustration." he continued, couching his response carefully and noting the slight smile curving at the corner of Malfoy's mouth. He wondered what that was all about.

"Speaking of the Brothel," Voldemort interjected in a soft hiss, a strange, almost hungry look in his red eyes, "I believe I have an appointment there tonight."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius confirmed, "right after we finish here." Voldemort nodded, apparently satisfied, and returned his focus to the decadent pavlova on the plate in front of him. Lucius turned to Snape. "And what about you, Severus, care to join us?"

Snape was not expecting the offer. In fact he'd planned to beg off as soon as possible in order to catch a little sleep before he pulled his shift with Miss Patil later on. "Well, I'm really not…" he began to answer but was cut off by Lucius.

"You can have the same girl as before, Severus," Lucius interjected, "if that's what's worrying you… honestly, you look like you've been pole-axed. It's not that strange of an offer. You really are all work and no play!" Snape looked up to see a smile on Lord Voldemort's face at Malfoy's veiled diatribe.

__

Wonderful. Just bloody wonderful! He thought to himself. He didn't want to be that close to Miss Granger while in Lord Voldemort's presence, not only because of the unfortunate side effect of the potion (would he even be able to stand up straight once he stepped through the floo network and into the brothel?), but because of the added danger of him falling into a trance that could betray everything at that close range.

"When you put it that way, how can I refuse?" He finally replied, his hands stretched out in front of him, palms up, in a gesture of supplication. He caught the tail end of a muttered comment from Draco beside him and glanced over at him to see he was downing another goblet of wine like it was water. What was the boy thinking, behaving in such a way in the company of the Dark Lord? Did he have a death wish? He looked back down at his own plate and made a show of eating the delicate meringue concoction on it, noting the unspoken communication between Lucius and Narcissa and the frown on Lord Voldemort's face as he studied Draco.

***

The word had come half an hour ago that Lord Voldemort would be visiting Lavender at nine o'clock. Milly had brought a calming potion with her and administered it to the distraught blonde girl before beginning work on her make-up. She would be wearing a set of white silk robes trimmed with gold tonight, somewhat reminiscent, in a twisted way, of a vestal virgin or even a newlywed wearing her bridal trousseau. _All the better to see the blood,_ Hermione had thought morbidly as she sat holding Lavender's hand while Milly worked, silently offering her strength to her friend. 

It was funny how things had changed between the two girls since their captivity. In the beginning, Hermione had still been quite dismissive of Lavender and vice-versa. Back then, before they had truly walked on common ground, it had been easy. Lavender had been everything Hermione wasn't. She was blonde and extremely pretty, not to mention vivacious and graceful. And while Lavender hadn't been top of the class, she hadn't been failing either. Hermione had been a mousy yet brilliant brunette, opinionated and a little clumsy no matter what she knew. Lavender had been very popular with the girls of their year, getting along with almost everyone from every house, even those who came from Slytherin to a certain degree. Except for a handful of Ravenclaws from her revision group Hermione hadn't been. Enough said about that. And then there was divination. Lavender loved it while Hermione had held it in utter contempt, Sybil Trelawney notwithstanding. Factor Sybil into the equation and it was a place you didn't want to go--not with Hermione Granger, anyway. Even though they had been roommates, the pair had not gotten along the way Lavender and Parvati had, or any other normal female dynamic observed at school. Hermione thought Lavender was far too giggly and shallow and Lavender had thought Hermione was far too serious and judgmental and that had just been the tip of the iceberg where their problems with each other were concerned. Things had gotten a little better between them when Ron and Lavender had started dating, but not by much.

It's interesting what being stuck in a room with no one else for company can do for a relationship. Both girls had found out the hard way they had more in common than either of them thought. In the beginning there had been the sense of disbelief at their circumstances, as well as all the little grudges harboured against each other over the years. Eventually, though, they actually had to talk to each other, and really listen for the first time in years. The things they had learnt about each other when they finally had no choice but to listen were astounding. They actually had more things in common than either would have guessed--apart from the forced prostitution, that was. They both loved Ron Weasley for example, however odd that seemed to someone on the outside looking in. Whenever they talked about him, they both found themselves chewing their lips to stop the tears from flowing. Hermione loved him as a brother as much as Ginny did and Lavender loved him in a completely different way, even after everything they'd been through as a couple and the fact he frustrated the hell out of her. The girls would chase the shadows from their hearts and while away their captive days reminiscing about their school years, and telling stories of what it was like for each of them growing up--Lavender in a Wizarding household and Hermione in the Muggle world. They each knew the other's hopes, fears and desires as intimately as their own. And right now both of them wished they were anywhere else in the world but here in this godforsaken brothel.

***

Severus was sweating from the effort it took to keep himself standing upright. He'd been hit by a maelstrom of emotions and sensations the second he'd stepped out of the fireplace and into the brothel. It took every ounce of his strength to quell the trembling so it would go unnoticed by Lucius and the Dark Lord. He was glad they'd both stepped through the floo network before he did and their backs were still to him. It gave him a second to collect himself under the onslaught that was Miss Granger. All his concentration went into stepping one foot in front of the other across the room. He was definitely going to have to make research into this side effect a priority as this couldn't be allowed to go on indefinitely. 

"Severus, would you mind waiting here while I see Lord Voldemort to his room?" Lucius asked, turning to address the Headmaster. Severus nodded and Lucius continued, "I'll make sure your girl is ready as well… help yourself to a drink if you'd like." He gestured towards the silver tray with cut crystal decanters that was floating in the ethereal beam of light in the corner of the room.

"Thank you, I will," Severus replied before turning to Voldemort and bowing. "My Lord, I will bring the potions to you when they are done." The Dark Lord nodded in response before following Lucius out of the room--his heavy, ornate velvet robes rustling softly as he walked.

The first thing Severus did when the door closed behind them was to stumble across the room and sink gratefully into the leather upholstered chair by the window. His skin was clammy and his heart hammered a tattoo in his chest. He dug in the pockets of his robes, produced a pristine white handkerchief and unfolded it with an economic yet practised snap of his wrist. He mopped his brow and then his face and neck, a little surprised at the sodden state of the handkerchief as he balled it up and stuffed it back into the same pocket he'd taken it from. This was not like him at all. Had his state been apparent to Lucius and Voldemort? He hoped not. He let out a sigh and sank back in the chair trying to gather his thoughts and get control of the situation. Miss Granger's emotions were very insistent. She was scared and angry and unhappy. He sank back in the chair and, using his wand, summoned a glass of fire whiskey from the silver tray. When he had the glass in hand he performed a simple spell to ensure the whiskey was safe and potable. In finding that it was, he raised the glass to his lips and drained it completely in a matter of seconds. He sat for a moment with his eyes closed, nursing the empty glass in his hand and feeling the liquor burn a path down his throat and into his stomach. Well, he had to admit it did help as somehow he felt more in control. He was impatient and full of nervous energy, especially because Miss Granger's insistent emotions were doing their worst in his head, but knew that Lucius would not return for him until everything was perfect for Lord Voldemort. He floated his glass back to the decanter for a refill. One more small one wouldn't hurt.

***

The girls were surprised by the sound of the key turning in the lock. It wasn't yet nine o'clock. They had come for Lavender early. Hermione watched her friend's face crumple as she fought a losing battle to hold herself together. When the door swung open to admit Lucius Malfoy, they were both shocked. Usually only the guards and house-elves bothered coming up to the sparse dormer rooms where they kept the prisoners. Hermione straightened up and looked directly at him. He threw her a creepy smile before turning to focus on Lavender.

"What's this?" he asked, taking in her emotional state and the look on her face. "This won't do at all," he shook his head, produced his wand and continued, "Desino Despero." Suddenly the fear and uncertainty seemed to vanish from Lavender. She stood straighter and stopped fidgeting. "That's better." He told her as he raked his gaze over her from head to toe, appraising her worthiness. After a moment Lucius finally nodded in approval, tucked a thumb under the girl's chin and raised her eyes to meet his own. "You will smile for the Dark Lord and obey his every command, do you understand?" Lavender nodded, and Malfoy Senior motioned for the guard lackey standing solidly in the doorway to escort her to where Lord Voldemort was waiting. 

When Lavender and the guard had gone, Malfoy turned his attention to Hermione. She was wearing the plain brown robes that were standard issue to all the prisoners here at the brothel. It was what they wore when they weren't decked out in a 'work-related' costume. Their cut was anything but flattering—she looked positively mousy with her unkempt hair caught back in a careless pony tail and not a scrap of make up or an appearance charm to soften things up and banish the dark circles under her eyes. Lucius shook his head. She was hardly fit to scrub floors in his mind, the way she was dressed, never mind entertain a certain guest--but he supposed it would have to do. It would take too long to get her ready to his liking. "Listen to me," he commanded, "I want you to get into his blood. Do what you must to make him need you like a drug. He must want nothing but you. Do not settle for anything less. I will not tolerate anything less. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Hermione responded automatically. _Three bags full, sir. _she added irreverently in her mind, catching and tamping down on the Imperio tremors before they manifested in a way that Malfoy could see them. She wondered who he was talking about, but knew better than to ask. She liked her teeth in her mouth, thank you very much, not spat out and swimming in a bloodied mess in the palm of her hand. There was always someone Malfoy was trying to control. He loved nothing more than being the shark swimming with the minnows. She was sure he got off on it. As for herself, she was a pawn to him--a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less. Hanging on to the person she had been before Draco had captured her was hard—extremely hard--but she'd be damned if she'd ever give up like they expected her to. 

***

"And you'll be where?" Severus asked Lucius as they made their way to the room where Hermione was waiting. His legs were like lead and he had to be careful not to give anything away. Lucius was studying him too closely as it was.

"Going over the Ministry books. You know how it is--there's always some stupid detail or other to take care of." Severus wondered if those details involved some of the recent resistance incursions--seemingly random attacks that didn't appear connected at all unless you knew what to look for. He wouldn't be surprised if Lucius had taken on that task himself. Malfoy Senior had styled himself as Voldemort's Minister of Defence, a position no one disputed. Not that you could blame them. Who wanted to end up on the receiving end of the killing curse or some other less than subtle punishment designed to make an example of you? A lot of good people could do no more than keep their heads down and hope to escape the notice of the new regime. The only ones who were standing against them in any way, shape or form darted out of fox-holes under cover of darkness to do so. And when you considered their numbers, it was amazing the resistance attacks did any damage at all.

"And my wand, where will I find it?" 

"Goyle Jr. is on duty tonight. You can leave it in his care." Lucius saw the look of horror on Snape's face at his comment. "Don't worry, he won't touch it... he's merely a glorified sentinel. I know your wand is heavily warded, so what's the problem?"

"Recollection of years of incompetence on the part of Gregory Goyle, that's what." Severus shook his head. "Is that the calibre of _our_ young men and women?"

"He knows what he can and cannot do--He's been trained that much, and I doubt he'd try to tamper with anything belonging to his old Head of House."

"That's reassuring." Snape commented sarcastically. 

"Be assured he's not the type to attempt a coup d'etat. He a follower, he does what he's told. He won't touch your wand, or anyone else's."

"That's cold comfort, Lucius, I know what he's incapable of." Malfoy laughed deep and unrestrained at Snape's comment.

"You worry far too much, Severus."

"As Headmaster of Hogwarts, that's my job." Snape replied, shrugging a burdened shoulder.

***

Hermione sat naked, covered only by the thin silk sheet that belonged to the bed. Lucius Malfoy had stripped her, kicked the functional yet ugly robes she had been wearing under the bed and swung her by the arm onto the mattress. He then pulled the short dark ribbon from her hair so that the tangled mass tumbled around her shoulders like Medusa's serpents--coiled and wild. He touched his thumbs to the hollows beneath her eyes and banished the dark circles that skulked there with a muttered word, and left her wondering who was to join her in the green room tonight. 

She found herself sitting forward as the door opened, awaiting fate's cruel hand yet again. The room was lit only by candlelight and the light through the doorway cast a very familiar silhouette across the threshold. She hadn't realised she'd been holding her breath and was surprised at how it fast it rushed out, threatening to overwhelm her. She stifled the sob before it became reality and set about composing herself before he got close enough to see her lack of control. She was glad he had turned to close the door behind himself before crossing the room to where she sat in the middle of the bed and collapsing on it next to her.

"Are you all right, Professor?" she asked, leaning forward over him, concern on her features. She was surprised at how calm she felt. Shouldn't she be more unsettled? He looked completely drained. She lifted a hand and touched it to his forehead, watching with fascination as his features relaxed and he let out a long sigh.

"I am now, Miss Granger." He replied, a slight smile quirking at the side of his mouth as he pulled her down to him so that her ear rested against his mouth. "It's just a little side effect of the Vestigium Teneo potion," he whispered softly, "apparently you're quite intoxicating - you've had me staggering like a drunk under the onslaught of your emotions." She was surprised at the humour in his voice and recalled the 'dream' from the night before.

"Last night I dreamt of you…" she began in a soft voice, her own mouth resting by his ear, "only it wasn't a dream, was it?"

"No it wasn't," came the soft confirmation, "we're connected, you and I, more deeply than I'd imagined we would be. It's an unexpected side-effect, but I promise I'll work on it. Inanimate objects don't have thoughts or emotions to channel through the link. And you said you were dreaming--that has to be a piece of the puzzle then…" he mused, more to himself than to her

"Is it very bad?"

"It gets progressively worse the closer I am to you but I'm fine now, surprisingly enough. Must be because you are here in the room with me because as soon as you touched me, it was as if you banished the effect."

"I've been so restless, myself, since you activated the potion." Hermione admitted. "I thought I'd go crazy from it at first but worrying about Lavender helped me work through it all. I'm fine now, though. As you said, it must be because you're in the room with me."

"How is Miss Brown?" Snape asked.

"A basket case." Hermione told him. "I'm so worried about her."

"As are all of us." Hermione wondered who he meant by the collective 'all of us' but was afraid to ask. Would he give her an answer? When she thought about it, the less she knew the better. It was harder to betray a person when you were ignorant to the facts. 

"I'm so scared she won't come back tonight."

"She will." Severus reassured her. "The Dark Lord will want her fear to reach a sustained fever pitch, and I doubt she'll have reached the level he likes to feed on yet."

"Do you really think so?"

"How many visits did it take before he finally killed Miss Abbott?" His breath was warm and ticklish on her neck and his hand was wandering up and down the length of her spine in a casual caress. 

"Seven, I think… yes, seven." she confirmed after a moment's pause.

"I can't see it taking less time than that for Miss Brown."

"I hope you're right, Professor, I really do." Her voice cracked and she drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second while she collected her thoughts.

"So do I." he answered, moving his hand from its place on her back to brush away the hair that had fallen across her face. She was surprised at the tenderness of his touch and studied him speculatively. He arched his brow in a silent question and she shook her head, almost imperceptibly.

"You realise I'm supposed to get into your blood," she informed him, "I'm supposed to make you crave me like you would a drug."

"Really? Instructions courtesy of Lucius I suppose?" She nodded and he continued, "Bit late for that, don't you think? …all things considered. I took care of that one myself quite nicely, even if it was not exactly the outcome I was anticipating." She felt the grip of Malfoy Senior's Imperius controlled directives loosening a bit at his admission. He was right--technically she was already in his blood thanks to the Vestigium Teneo potion and its unexpected side effect. "What else did he say?"

"That I'm to make you want nothing but me." 

He didn't answer, instead taking her hand in his and guiding it down to rest on his crotch. He was already hard and she couldn't help but blush as her fingers came into contact with the length of him. She managed a faint "Oh," in response before realising he was smiling at her.

"You know, Sir, you should smile more. It suits you." She told him.

"And ruin my reputation?" He was amused by her observation. "I don't think so, Miss Granger--but if you promise not to tell anyone, I'll make an effort to smile more when I'm around you." Severus was surprised he was bantering so easily with her. It was hard for him be casually familiar and relaxed around anyone, especially a woman. Was that another side effect of the potion, or was it relief that he was here beside her and not sitting with Malfoy and Voldemort waiting to be caught out?

The fluttering in her stomach at his words caught Hermione by surprise. The way he was talking you'd think he enjoyed her company, however warped the capacity. She'd often wondered while in school what he was like away from the classroom. She'd never imagined him at ease or capable of joking with someone. He'd always been so stiff and imposing. The thought of him being stiff and imposing directed her attention back to the hard length of him under the hand that she hadn't pulled away. She caressed him lightly and was pleased that he trembled slightly. It was reassuring and flattering to think she didn't have to be laid out bruised, beaten and moaning for mercy under him to illicit a response. 

"Shall we?" There was no need to elaborate--she was still compelled by the Imperius, no matter how much freedom his words had given her from it. He knew what she meant and answered by shifting from under her to lie next to her, face to face, one hand running through her hair for a moment before gripping the back of her head so her lips crushed against his own in a kiss that left her reeling from the intensity of it. 

Severus, too, was taken aback at how the kiss had felt. While he had enjoyed the previous encounters with Hermione, he didn't recall the fireworks that exploded inside him the way they did now. He sat up and threw his cloak onto the back of the brocade chair next to the bed. Then, with swiftness borne of many years of practice, he undid the multitude of buttons on his frock coat and tossed it onto the chair on top of his cloak. A minute later he was completely undressed and standing in front of her. She raked her gaze boldly across his form and smiled seductively at him as he lay back down on the bed next to her and drew her into an embrace. 

"Fancy participating in a little experiment, Miss Granger?" He spoke into the sensitive skin at the crook of her neck and shoulder, inducing a shiver from her. She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Good." She felt the smile curling at his lips and shivered again at the sensation. He broke away from her and propped up on one elbow for support, ran a slender hand down over one breast, stopping for a second to coax her nipple to a point between two fingers before trailing the hand down her stomach to her hip. He could feel her shudder beneath his touch.

"How did that feel?" he asked, looking up to see that she had her head thrown back on the pillow and her bottom lip caught in her teeth.

She let out the breath she had been holding. "Amazing… absolutely amazing." she answered softly.

"I see. How about this?" He lowered his head to capture the erect nipple in his mouth and was rewarded by the sound of her moaning with pleasure as he suckled there. Encouraged by the response, he lowered his hand to her thighs and found she was already soaked with desire. He spread her legs gently and plunged two fingers inside her.

"Oh sweet Merlin." she cried out, arching her back so that her hips thrust up against his hand, sending his fingers deeper inside her. Severus himself was so aroused at her reaction that he ached to be inside her. He pulled his fingers out of Hermione, eliciting a whimper of disappointment from her that made him smile. He rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him so that she was poised on top of his erection. He ran his hands up from her hips to cup her breasts just as she took him inside herself with such force that they both gasped with the intensity of the feeling. Hermione arched her back as he thrust deeper inside her, pushing herself closer to him so he could take her breasts in his mouth, one after another, each time circling the neglected nipple with a callused finger. He watched her catch her lower lip between her teeth again as she rode against him.

"How do you feel now, Miss Granger." he whispered, barely able to form the question.

"I feel like I'm home, Sir." she replied, crying out as she came--the ripples of her muscles around the length of him causing him to explode in his own orgasm.

***

An ashen faced Draco Malfoy stood in the darkened sitting room of Malfoy Manor staring into his father's enchanted mirror. He watched the scene playing out in the Green Room of the brothel, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, yet he was unable to tear his gaze away. He had never seen such a look of ecstasy on Hermione's face before and it choked him to think that it had been elicited by someone other than himself. His hatred for his former Head of House was overwhelming at that moment. Why was it that she responded to Snape in such a fashion when she behaved like an automaton with him? Even when he had been gentle with her, she was still remote and removed from the situation. He picked up the Ming vase from the stand in front of the mirror and threw it against the opposite wall with such force that it shattered into hundreds of pieces.

The sound of breaking china brought Narcissa Malfoy running into the room to see what was wrong. She stopped, alarmed by the look on her son's face. Her gaze flicked to the mirror he was standing in front of and she understood right away what had caused his fit of anger.

"Draco," she placated, "calm down. She's only a Mudblood whore."

"Shut up, Mother, just shut up!" he screamed vehemently at her before stalking from the room, slamming the door behind himself so hard that the wall shook. Narcissa stood stunned. He'd never in his life spoken to her in such a fashion. After a moment she ended the enchantment on the mirror and set about repairing the Ming vase, her wand hand trembling noticeably as she did so. Lucius was not going to be happy.

***

A/N

Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out. Our computer crashed completely in December and I've been busy with the evil overtime season at work since the beginning of December too. Thanks to everyone who has emailed me wondering if I'd abandoned the story. I haven't, but until the overtime season (which lasts five months) is over, I won't have too much free time in which I can write.

There are only 2 pictures so far for this chapter, both done by myself.

The first one is how I see Cho Chang.

The second one is the scene Draco sees in the enchanted mirror. (R rated)

Apparently a new feature on FF.net is that it strips links out of uploaded chapters. Hmmm… if you still want to see the pictures you'll have to go to my group to do so. The link is in my profile and the group is called Den of Divinity.

Karen


	10. Adrift

Bill and Blaise had been quite civil to each other since returning from their shift at the mansion. Supper had been eerily pleasant. The two actually bantered back and forth while Ron sat knowingly and Ginny caught flies in her open mouth. Ginny was apprehensive and elated all at once, an odd sensation that was transmitted to the baby, making it restless. She pressed a hand to her stomach in an effort to quiet it and smiled as it settled. Bill had been upset with her choice of partner right from day one. The Zabini family had quite a reputation in the Wizarding world and it wasn't good. Not at all. That had been the first of Bill's many objections. What was it that he'd said so rudely in one letter? Oh yes, "Once a snake, always a snake." His reasoning had made Ginny want to thump him. The others were fine with her dating Blaise once they'd gotten to know him a bit better, and even Charlie far away in Romania had nothing but good wishes for the couple. He at least didn't question her judgement the way Bill had. 

"Are you going to fill me in on what happened today?" She asked as she settled clumsily onto the sofa next to Blaise. They'd moved to the comfort of the sitting room after clearing the table. The three men exchanged glances and grinned broadly.

"This is killing her, you know." Ron observed.

"I know." Bill and Blaise answered in unison and all three men dissolved into laughter.

"It's not funny!" Ginny protested, indignant.

"You want to see your face, Ginny," Ron told his sister, "it's been a picture since we all got back."

"It's okay, love," Blaise took her hand in both of his own, wide grin still gracing his mouth, "we settled our differences and even did it without resorting to fisticuffs or hexes."

"Really? With no hard feelings remaining or anything?" 

"I saw the measure of the man today, Gin." Bill informed her. "And I'm impressed." Ginny looked over at Blaise to see he was embarrassed. She squeezed his hand. 

"I'm also sorry I acted like a complete git," Bill continued, "but… but with Dad gone I feel like I've got to look out for you and when you sent news of your relationship with a Slytherin, and a Zabini at that…"

"It's okay Bill, I understand. You're irrational when it comes to your baby sister. Say no more." Ginny smiled widely at her brother as she cut him off, sparing him from having to continue his stumbled apology. 

"All right, who's for tea?" she asked them as she conjured a teapot and tray of cups from the kitchen. Three heads nodded. "Let's hear how your shift went, then," she prodded as she poured a cup for each of them.

***

Severus apparated straight to Snape Castle once he had retrieved his wand from the bumbling Gregory Goyle and left the brothel. It was just past 10 p.m. when he arrived and he was glad he'd be able to wash and change before heading out to work on the wards with Miss Patil. He was very fastidious--contrary to the popular belief of the student body--and had no desire to show up for his shift smelling of the musky and unmistakable scent of sexual activity. He doubted they'd appreciate it, even if they already knew where he'd been. 

He had been very calm when he left the brothel, unlike the staggering wreck he'd been when he'd entered it. Something had happened between himself and Miss Granger that stabilised the bond the Vestigium Teneo potion had forged between them. It was like something had clicked into place. Yes, he felt her tickling at the back of his mind still, but it wasn't as distracting as before. Now, strangely enough, it was comforting to have her there--nipping at the edges of his consciousness. Of course, the fact he was so far away from her at the moment probably counted for something, but he wasn't going to analyse it. It was better not to think about it at all. He called for the house elf who acted as his valet when he was in residence at the family home and set about making himself presentable - an absolutely damnable task when he was just about keeling over from lack of sleep. Before he hit the shower he downed another restoration potion. _Six in the past 2 days_, he thought to himself; _not good…he'd burn out soon if he didn't get a decent night's sleep._

***

A naked and bruised Lavender was floated through the room door by the guard and deposited unceremoniously on top of her bed when he ended the spell while she was still a foot above the mattress. He leered at Hermione and copped a feel of her breasts as he brushed past her to leave the room, twisting one of her nipples cruelly. She bit back the urge to kick him in the arse as he let go and turned toward the door.

After the bolt shot home, she scrambled to her friend's side and took one of her hands in her own. At her touch, Lavender opened her eyes--deep set in purple-black sockets. There was such a haunted look in them that it made Hermione shiver. What had that bastard put her through?

"Hi," Lavender greeted in a broken voice.

"Hi," Hermione answered, trying to force a smile onto her lips.

"It's okay, you don't have to pretend. I know I look like death warmed over." The blonde girl rasped.

"You look in better shape this time than last. How do you feel?"

"Weak as a new born kitten." Lavender admitted, shaking as she tried to get up. Hermione moved to help her sit, propped on the thin pillows from both their beds. "He didn't break my bones this time." she informed her friend. "I don't know… am I supposed to be grateful?"

"You don't have to be anything, but please don't think I'm terribly selfish because I'm grateful you're back here with me." Hermione admitted, filling the awkward silence that had followed Lavender's question. A slight smile graced Lavender's lip for a second, but was gone so quickly that Hermione wondered if she'd really seen it.

"I wanted him to kill me so badly, but he wouldn't do it. He knew I wanted to die. Every time I fainted from the pain, he revived me. He'd make me ride it out while he fed off me." She noticed the look of sheer horror on her friend's face and clarified with a laugh that cracked in her throat. "Ever been stretched on a rack, Hermione? Like the way the Muggles tortured some of us in the middle ages?" She didn't stop for an answer, "I know how that feels. How about thumbscrews? Or hot pokers?" With every question she asked in her trembling voice, Hermione found it harder and harder to keep her composure and soon she was weeping openly as her friend spoke of her suffering at the hands of one Tom Marvolo Riddle. "You name it and chances are he did it to me." Lavender's voice diminished. She fell silent for a moment and the only sound in the room was Hermione, hiccoughing as she wiped her eyes and tried to collect herself.

"He wouldn't let me cry out. He bound me in such a way I couldn't struggle." Lavender's eyes were rimmed red, but dry--she couldn't cry--she'd already exhausted herself under Voldemort's knife. 

"He cut me here," she swept a hand from sternum to naval--unembarrassed by her naked state--pointing out, matter-of-factly, the faint scar that even magical healing could not erase, "slowly--he was relishing it so much it made me sick to look at him--and plunged his hands inside me." Hermione whimpered at Lavender's blunt retelling of what had happened. "It was then he told me I could scream. Sweet God, it was like a dam bursting. I screamed myself raw in a matter of minutes while he stood there, bloodied to the wrists and laughing at me. He wouldn't let me pass out, and he didn't kill me. Why didn't he kill me?" Her voice had risen with the last question and taken on a hysterical edge. "No… he raped me again and again, smiling as I lay bleeding under him--cradling my face with hands covered in my own blood--then healed me and sent me back to wait for the next time." She trailed off and buried her face in her hands, muttering incoherently.

"Sshhh…" Hermione sat next to Lavender and swept her into a hug, using one hand to smooth her hair soothingly. It was a gesture she hoped would comfort herself as much as her friend.

***

Colin Creevey was prowling Knockturn Alley disguised as an unsavoury-looking wizard. He wasn't garnering more than a few glances in his direction and those eyes tended to slide over him quickly, which was exactly how he wanted it to be. His friends would probably be surprised at how often he visited the more seedy locations in Wizarding London, but he always gathered a lot of information when he was here. His cousin Liz was a make-up artist on contract at Leavesden Studios. She'd worked on a number of James Bond and Star Wars movies. When he wanted a disguise and didn't want to resort to a Polyjuice potion, he'd visit her and she'd transform him into whoever he felt like being. It was a handy bit of Muggle magic that served him well. It enabled him to enter the establishments where you had to pass through a magic detector that disabled magical disguises. He wasn't under any glamour, but he wasn't himself--The best of both worlds when you thought about it, even if he was decked out as one ugly git. Tonight he was heading to The Chimaera, a pub that was a favourite spot for young witches and wizards of questionable moral fibre to hang out in. He'd picked up many an interesting morsel of gossip for the resistance while sitting in the shadows there, nursing a firewhiskey and listening to the loose tongues wagging and bragging.

Whenever he came here, he wore the same disguise. One that showed the world a short, very homely looking man with acne scarred skin and a nose that had been broken and badly set. He'd comb his hair through with a bit of olive oil to make it darker and lank and wore caps on his teeth that gave him a very crooked and unappealing smile, inspired by the dentition of one Marcus Flint, troll-spawn extrordinaire. His only regret in coming to The Chimaera was that it meant he had to leave his camera at home. It was a pity really, when he thought of all the really interesting shots he could have snapped. He paid for his glass of firewhiskey and moved to sit in his usual corner, alert to all the goings on around him. All the usual depravities and same old jokes. He sighed. It never changed. Every night it was the same old shite. To say the clientele here had stunted personalities was an understatement.

He looked up from where he sat as the door to the pub slammed open and a belligerent looking Draco Malfoy stalked through it and strode straight over to the bar, slamming a fist down loudly on the polished surface and demanding to be served in an angry voice--glaring at the suddenly nervous Barkeep as he stumbled over himself in his rush to comply.

Well, well, well…" Colin murmured to himself. If this wasn't an interesting turn of events, he didn't know what was.

***

Severus was not very happy… not happy at all… His stomach was doing cartwheels and manic summersaults thanks to the dual influence of the bobbing boat and the feeling of general malaise channelled through their link by Miss Granger. The night was chill and the edges of the warming charm they'd cast--before obscuring the boat so it wouldn't be seen by anyone on the Island--were beginning to fray. His nerves were also beginning to fray. Before he had left the brothel, he had asked Hermione to stay awake as long as she could and not fall asleep for at least the next five hours. She had told him there would be no fear of that. She was too worried about Miss Brown. And who could blame her? He was having trouble dealing with everything that was going on himself. 

He glanced up at Miss Patil, standing braced in the prow of the small boat, hands engaged in an arcane dance with the night air and lips moving as she whispered the incantation to break the specific ward she was working on. They had been taking turns at unravelling the web hanging around the small isle and the work was going well, if still a little slower than they wanted. He turned and cast a speculative eye towards Harry, standing by the small mast watching the coastline with a frown on his face, wand folded in his arms. He'd insisted that each duo of curse-breakers take a third member with them--a duelist to watch their backs as they worked. Ron had guarded Bill and Blaise; Sirius had been sentinel for Remus and Cho and Fred had stood point for Penny and Neville on their shift. "Better safe than sorry." was the war cry of the resistance.

Harry turned around in time to see Snape throw his hands up to his head and grit his teeth. 

"Hsssst…" he sucked in his breath as he rubbed his temples. Miss Granger was weeping and utterly drowning in despair. He couldn't handle the intensity of the emotions. He was sure his skull would split from it all. 

Harry watched Snape struggle to compose himself and moved to crouch down next to where he sat. "Are you okay?" he asked, prepared for a snapped response from the Headmaster.

"I'm not sure," Severus managed after a moment. "Sweet Merlin." He hissed through clenched teeth as another wave of her emotions crashed over him. He felt helpless, adrift in a sea of sorrow that was for once not of his own making. He was swiftly making it his own, though.

"Headmaster?" Harry touched Snape's arm--even more worried now than he had been a second before--and Severus snapped back to reality. "What's wrong?"

"I'd venture to guess that Miss Brown is back, as Miss Granger is extremely upset right now."

"You can tell?"

"This close, there's no mistaking it." He answered shortly, fingers still kneading hard at his temples. 

"Is it bad?" 

"A question that stupid doesn't dignify a response." Severus retorted, hissing through clenched teeth.

"Touché, you grouchy old bastard!" Harry snapped. "And it wasn't stupid. I'm only trying to help, talk to me for God's sake!" He was rewarded with the Headmaster glaring daggers at him down his nose. 

"If you two are quite finished?" They were interrupted by Padma, who had been distracted from her work by their exchange (luckily, after she'd tied off another ward). Harry threw her a look and she came to hunker down next to him, taking a moment to find her balance in the bobbing boat. "Is it as bad as I think?"

Severus managed a nod as another surge of Hermione's emotions hit him. Harry and Padma waited patiently for Snape to gather his senses. They had no choice. Padma was already exhausted and Snape was up next. They couldn't do it without him.

"Can you tell us what it feels like?" Padma asked, hoping to distract him. 

"Absolute Hell and rather overwhelming… it's hard to describe."

Padma was surprised he'd answered. She hadn't been expecting him to tell her anything other than 'Sod off!' "Do you think you'll be able to fight it off enough to function? We can always call the next team in early if we have to." 

The withering look of disdain she received for her suggestion made her grin. "Why am I not surprised?" She stood up, turned and murmured a spell, causing the shimmering network of wards to glow red, a malevolent net cast into the sea by in the night sky. Padma was proud of the progress so far. It was difficult work yet they'd dug quite a nice little hole in the thing, as evidenced by the patch of darkness in the web of light. 

"I'll finish up the next two... Then it's your turn." She told him matter-of-factly. Padma knew better than to be sympathetic with Snape. Stiff upper-lip was much more his style. Stiff, sneering upper-lip, to be exact. She relaxed as he nodded, glad to note he looked more in control already, and shook the fatigue off in an attempt to stop it from settling more firmly in her bones. 

Padma turned her back on the Headmaster to give him the privacy he needed to collect himself, moved to the prow of the boat and began to follow the knotted lines of the next ward after using a charm to change its colour so that it stood out from the rest. She felt Harry at her side and turned her head a little to look at him. He was smiling at her and she smiled back as she began unravelling the ward. 

*** 

Narcissa couldn't stop her hands from trembling. It had been an hour since Draco stormed out of the house and even though she had restored the Ming vase to its former glory, she wasn't able to say the same thing about her nerves. She bit back the bile that rose in her throat at the thought of how angry Lucius would be. It made her sick to think she would have to be the one to break the news of their son's behaviour to her husband. Why did this have to happen? The question was rhetorical as she already knew why--her son had done the unspeakable and fallen in love with a Mudblood, a whore, nonetheless. That had to be it. Why else would he behave the way he did at supper tonight? Why else would he be watching her tryst with Severus in his father's mirror? She knew Lucius used it to gain an upper hand on his unsuspecting enemies. Why had Draco been using it? He'd been so startled and upset that she'd walked in on him, she'd seen it on his face. She knew that look well. It was one he'd worn every time he'd done something wrong as a child and been caught at it. It had been many years since she'd seen it, though, as he'd become adept at hiding his true feelings behind a mask of stoicism. An arrow of fear stabbed through her as she paced back and forth in her suite of rooms. Lucius could read her like a book so there was no way she could sweep it all under the rug and forget it had ever happened. He'd know there was something wrong the minute he laid eyes on her. She buried her face in her hands and sighed long and deep.

***

Colin sat hidden in the shadows of The Chimaera and watched in open-mouthed fascination as Draco Malfoy officially lost it. He'd seen flashes of his volatility first hand at Hogwarts over the years, but Malfoy had kept his nose clean since the war had been won. He was being groomed as the crown-prince and had acted accordingly. At least in public, anyway. Who knew what went on at those private parties his father hosted at Malfoy Manor? Colin remembered Draco's little display in the family statuary a few days ago--a scene he'd seen played out over and over again, thanks to his new film and developing techniques--and wondered if he'd been in a permanent state of anger since then. The dark circles under his light eyes spoke volumes.

A witch of the groupie/social climbing sub-genus had come up to the table where Malfoy had sat down to nurse the bottle the bartender had given to him. She was a pretty girl, if harshly made-up, with dark curly hair. She'd sat down across from Draco and reached a hand out to touch him and get his attention. Colin had winced as he took in the scene unfolding in front of him. He knew the foul mood Malfoy Jr. was in. Draco slapped her hand away from him roughly and when she opened her mouth to complain about his behaviour, he dashed the contents of his glass into her face, smiling cruelly at her as she sputtered and reddened.

"Don't ever presume to touch me." He snarled in a dismissive tone that let her know exactly what he thought of her.

"You bastard!" She launched herself at him, hissing and spitting like a scalded cat. 

A second later she found herself slamming into the wall behind the bar, blown back by a curse hurled at her by Draco. As she crumpled to the floor behind the bar amidst the wreckage of bottles and pooling spirits, some of the patrons decided it was time to take their leave and headed towards the door. Before they could make their escape, Draco slammed and locked the doors out of the bar with a flick of his wand, trapping them in the entryway. They slowly turned and looked at him, fear shining in their eyes. It wasn't wise to raise the ire of a Malfoy.

"Leaving, were we?" He asked them. They shook their heads vigorously in denial, unable to find their voices. "Good. Have a seat!" He gestured to the benches and chairs they'd vacated and they slid back into their places, staring at him in wary fascination. He was the very epitome of a rogue Bludger. No one in the room had any idea what direction he would head off in next. He paced back and forth across the room, all the pent up rage and anger seething from him like steam from a bubbling cauldron. 

Colin was reminded of the big cats at the Zoo in Regent's Park, pacing back and forth behind the bars of their cages. The feeling of fear gnawing in the pit of his stomach was similar. He'd always worried when he was still in primary school that the bars wouldn't hold and the graceful predators would break out and devour everyone, starting with him. Looking at Draco, he realised he was worried about same thing happening here and sank as far back into the shadows as he could.

"Sit down!" Draco fired off a Jelly-Legs Jinx in the direction of a woman who was trying to sidle along the wall in the direction of the women's toilets. He smirked as she collapsed on the spot and started hyper-ventilating, her sobs strangled and staccato. 

Draco's eyes lit upon an older bar patron. The man was pale skinned and fair-haired and the reproving look on his face reminded him so much of the one he frequently got from his father. He watched him for a while as he continued to pace, a sneer appearing on his lips as the frown lines on the older man's face deepened. Colin jumped as Draco suddenly lunged forward and grabbed the blonde man by the front of his robes.

"You think you're so fucking perfect, don't you?" he asked his bewildered captive.

"I… I don't know… wh-what you mean," the man stuttered in a shaking voice.

"Always sitting there, judging me. I've never been good enough for you, have I?" Draco stroked the side of the man's face with his wand, eliciting a whimper from him.

"I… I don't know you, except for what I read in the p-papers." The man stammered out, his voice unnaturally high.

"No matter what I do, it's never enough, " Draco continued. Colin wondered if he'd even heard the man's reply. "You've never let me make my own choices, have you? You've always made them for me, like I'm too stupid to do anything myself. Your very own puppet on a string. You think I didn't know what everyone thought of me when I was growing up? There's not an original though in his head, that was a common one. I never had any real friends either, you bought them all--every single last one of them. What did they really care about me as long as you were satisfied?" The man didn't answer, he just shook his head slowly and carefully. There was a wand jammed under his jaw bone and it hurt. "And now you've gone and taken the one thing that I enjoy--the one thing I love--away from me and given it to Snape."

"You…You've gotten me confused with someone else." The man tried to reason with Malfoy. "I haven't taken anything from you. I don't know you." His voice was pleading.

"You're right there. You _don't_ know me at all--if you did, you'd be aware of just how much I hate your fucking guts." Malfoy's eyes darkened murderously and the man began to struggle as he read the intent in them.

"Let me go, please, just let me go."

"I'll let you go all right… straight to Hell where you belong! AVADA KEDAVRA!" He screamed. Draco's captive audience moaned in one collective voice as a green light enveloped the man he held by the neck. His victim's eyes widened and his features contorted into an unsettling rictus of fear before he slumped to the table, suddenly heavy in death. One of the women at the next table started to scream and cry. Malfoy loosened his grip on the front of the corpse's robes and turned to focus on her. 

"Will you shut up!" He commanded shrilly. He muttered a spell and the woman quieted--but she'd had no choice as he'd taken her mouth, leaving behind a sealed expanse of skin where it used to be. Her eyes bulged and she clawed at her face with her fingers. Colin felt sick to his stomach and fought down the nausea rising in his throat.

Everyone was startled when the heavy oak doors Draco had magically locked were blown off their hinges and into the bar in hundreds of pieces. When the dust and debris settled, it revealed a very angry looking Lucius Malfoy standing in the ruined entranceway, flanked by two masked Death Eaters.

"Jesus Christ!" Colin swore under his breath as the elder Malfoy strode into The Chimaera and coldly surveyed the damage his offspring had done.

"Are you stupid, boy?" He asked his son in clipped and condescending tones. Draco just glared and raised his wand to point it at his father. "You'd dare raise a hand against me?" Lucius asked, incredulous.

"Tarantallegra!" Draco hurled the hex at his father. Lucius side-stepped the spell, which ended up hitting one of his lackeys instead The masked Death Eater lurched around the room in a grotesque ballet. At any other time it would have been funny.

"Expelliarmus!" Lucius called, a creepy smile gracing his features as his son's wand flew across the room and into his outstretched hand. Draco was momentarily taken aback after his father successfully disarmed him but recovered his wits quickly enough to pick up a chair and hurl it across the room at Lucius. A flick of the senior Malfoy's wand was all it took to redirect the chair so that it smashed harmlessly into the stone wall to his right.

"It appears that you need to be taught a lesson. Remember that you brought this upon yourself." Lucius crossed the room, grabbed his son by the collar and pointed his wand at his chest. 

"Crucio." 

Draco immediately dropped to the floor and writhed around in agony, moaning from the pain but unwilling to ask for his father to forgive him and remove the spell. He'd rather be driven mad by the curse than do that. Lucius stood watching him for a few minutes, waiting for his son to break. It didn't happen.

"Bring him!" he snapped angrily at the Death Eater standing behind him.

"Mobilicorpus." The figure intoned as he suddenly jumped to life. Draco's spasming body was levitated off the floor and floated through the smashed doorway of The Chimaera as Lucius strode over to his hexed henchman and ended the spell that had been causing him to dance unceasingly. The masked man dropped to his knees and muttered his thanks gratefully before gathering himself up to stand behind his boss as if nothing had happened. 

Lucius swept his gaze around the room. "If one word of what went on here tonight reaches my ears through a third party, I'll have you all hunted down and imprisoned--if I don't decide to kill you instead. Do I make myself understood?" The remaining bar patrons knew better than to invite that kind of trouble on themselves and nodded, murmuring their agreement.

"Good." As he walked towards the door, he gestured to the bartender who had finally come out from his hiding place under the polished bar. "Clean this mess up, there's a good fellow." A small pouch of Galleons landed with a jingle on the countertop in front of the man, but he didn't move to touch it, preferring to watch Malfoy's retreating form as he stepped outside the door and disapparated. Once Malfoy and the Death Eaters were gone, the bartender turned and looked around the room at everyone.

"Go on, get out of here so I can clean up, and mind what the Minister said and keep your mouths shut and your noses clean." There was a rush for the exit and soon the only ones remaining in the bar were the bartender, the corpse of the blonde man, the sobbing woman with no mouth and Colin Creevey. 

"What about her?" Colin asked the barkeep as he stepped out of the shadowed corner where he'd been sitting.

"I haven't a clue. Maybe you could see her to St. Mungo's? They'll probably know what to do about it."

"I suppose." He walked over to where the woman sat slumped, blowing her nose with a sodden hankie and making inarticulate sounds in her throat. "Come on, love, let's get you some help." She looked up at him for a moment before taking his outstretched hand.

As he escorted the hapless woman to the Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Colin kept playing the evening's events over and over again in his head and wondered what Harry and the others would think of his news. He'd never thought much about why Draco was the way he was. He'd always figured that what was in the marrow was hard to take out of the bone and that Draco Malfoy was someone beyond redemption. Now he didn't know what to make of things. Lucius Malfoy had a lot to answer for.

***

A/N - Well, here it is finally. I hope it was worth the wait. I'm still wrestling with my husband for computer time, but at least the overtime season at work has finally wrapped up. Thanks again for all the kind reviews you've given, they mean a lot to me and let me know I'm doing things right. There's only one picture so far for this chapter. It's called Tangled and can be found by clicking on my group link in my author profile and visiting the photos folder there called Art from A Night to Remember. Oh, yes, and Sidsel has done a picture of the scene at the beginning of Chapter 9, where Hermione tries to comfort Lavender.

Karen


	11. Winds of Change

Severus was walking through the Great Hall at Hogwarts, weaving his way through the chattering clusters of senior students decked out in their best robes and finery. The Hall decorations were extremely over-the-top as usual, causing him to roll his eyes for a second as he took it all in. The house tables had been removed and smaller round tables dotted the edge of the room leaving a large cleared area for dancing. The music was buoyant and cheerful and was the cause of the scowl now plastered across his face. 

He hated large scale celebrations like this with a passion and decided to go outside to patrol the gardens to ensure no-one got carried away in the heat of the moment. A sly smile quirked the corners of his mouth - it was the only thing he enjoyed at these parties. As he was about to step through the door to the gardens he caught sight of a familiar face and frowned. Across the room, a young man with messy black hair and round-framed spectacles was surrounded by a crowd of laughing girls all waving their dance cards at him. What was Harry Potter doing here at Hogwarts and where was the ever-present Miss Patil? Shouldn't he be in hiding with the rest of the resistance members? Come to think of it, why was there a party at Hogwarts at all? There had been no reason to celebrate since Voldemort had come into power six months ago.

He strode across the room determined to speak to Harry but found the more he walked in that direction, the farther away Potter and his adoring bevy of fans seemed to get. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder in the direction he had come and was surprised to see St. Patrick's Isle and the brothel jutting up out of the shadows of the Forbidden Forest.

He was dreaming. 

The realisation upset him and a string of earnest, yet clipped, staccato curses escaped his lips. He hated the surreal and uncontrollable nature of dreams. He despised how they tended to play on your weaknesses. Had he forgotten to take his Dreamless Sleep potion? 

The ground beneath him changed from stone to grass, wet with dew, and he found himself walking towards the mocking cliffs of the island as the Forbidden Forest parted to either side of him and flocks of menacing looking birds took to wing in dark, meandering clouds from their roosts amid the branches. Soon he found himself standing on the sandy, grass-tufted dunes staring up at the manor on the island across the bay, his eyes fixed on the window where he supposed (hoped) Miss Granger lay sleeping. After a few minutes he turned, intent on making his way back through the dream world to Hogwarts, but the flicker of something just out of the corner of his eye made him turn back.

A boat was cutting its way across the bay towards him--a silent, cloaked figure standing unmoving in the prow. He fought the urge to bolt, suddenly paranoid about waiting for the boat to reach the shore in front of him. He closed his eyes and listened as the bottom of the boat scraped its way onto the beach and came to a stop.

"Thank you for waiting for me, Professor." His eyes snapped open at the comment and he found Hermione Granger standing in front of him, a smile pulling up one corner of her mouth as she dropped the hood of the cloak.

"What's so amusing, Miss Granger?" He had to ask--the look on her face invited the question.

"I never thought I'd ever say this but you look positively dashing, sir," her smile grew wider and even a little impish, "green suits you… you should wear it more often."

"Green?" He looked down at himself to see he was wearing a formal outfit of deep green velvet. The cut was perfect, rich yet simple. It was then he realised his hair wasn't in his face as it usually was. He reached up a hand to find it was tied back in a neat queue.

"Why am I dressed like this?" He wondered, surprised by her answer before realising he'd said it out loud.

"I'm not sure," she replied, "but I'm all dressed up too." She unfastened the cloak and studied the empire-waist gown she was wearing. A frown creased her brow.

"What?" Snape asked as they turned their backs to the shore and began to walk in the opposite direction.

"This dress is the one my mum liked at Madam Malkin's." Snape looked puzzled so she elaborated, "For the leaving ball… when I went home for Christmas Mum and I went shopping in Diagon Alley. We fought the whole day over what I should wear. This is the dress she thought looked best on me but I didn't like it at all and wanted a different one. I'm not too fond of the colour… she swept her hand down dismissively over the dusty pink material. "…Truth be known, it sets my teeth on edge. The one I liked was midnight blue, shot through with silver threads. Mum hated it, she thought it was too revealing."

"Ah," Snape commented, a little at a loss at what else to say. 

"I suppose that spending the last six months in some of the most ridiculous and revealing costumes ever conceived by man has made me see the error of my ways." Hermione was smiling but it was bittersweet. "I'm sure Mum would be proud I chose her gown in the end, even if only in a dream." 

"I think you look rather fetching, your favourite colour notwithstanding." Hermione arched a brow at his comment. Snape and flattery together? Unreal. Now she knew she really was dreaming.

"I must have been looking forward to the damn Leaving Ball more than I thought…"

"I think you might be right." Snape conceded as he took a closer look at their surroundings. They were crossing the quidditch pitch at Hogwarts now and looked up to see the 1994 World Cup final between Bulgaria and Ireland being played out above their heads. The last Quidditch World Cup series had been cancelled due to the war. He shook his head to clear the images of Leprechauns capering maniacally around the pitch and picked up the pace, but not before folding Hermione's hand into the crook of his arm. They were dreaming and he didn't want to get separated from her. Dreams were transient and scenes were apt to change with no notice at all.

Soon they were back in the Great Hall and Severus found his gaze drawn to the dais where the teacher's table usually sat. There, talking animatedly to the entertainers--The Weird Sisters, what a _surprise_!--was Albus Dumbledore. Snape stopped, smiling as the old man threw his head back and laughed heartily at something the tall witch in the middle had said.

"Are you okay, professor? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"Yes I'm fine, Miss Granger." Snape confirmed as he let go of her hand, the hall was crowded and there were many eyes turned in their direction. "I was just overcome for a moment by the realisation of just how much I miss the interfering old goat. It's not the same talking to his portrait."

"His portrait?" Hermione had always suspected the worst, but this was confirmation.

"He was killed in the battle that enabled Voldemort to take control. His portrait hangs in my suite of rooms along with the portrait of Armando Dippett. Neither of them are recognised by the Dark Lord as past Headmasters of Hogwarts. I keep their portraits in my personal library because Lord Voldemort thinks I had them destroyed."

"Why would he have you destroy them?"

"First duty as the new and loyal headmaster, I suppose." he answered, surprising her.

"You're really Headmaster of Hogwarts?" she queried, knowing he had spoken the truth even before she asked. "You know, Draco tormented me with the news of Dumbledore's death but I was never sure if he was telling the truth or not… he's a twisted bastard and would tell a tale like that in a second if it got him what he wanted." She shook her head. "He likes to get me worked up, it turns him on… I guess I've been prisoner so long our side must have lost. I wouldn't still be there otherwise, right?" She looked to him for an answer. He nodded.

"Albus fell in the same battle where you were captured, actually. Once that happened it was only a matter of days before everything fell apart. With you and Albus gone, not to mention the overwhelming losses we suffered, Mr. Potter had a hard time holding it all together." Severus watched Hermione's face crumple as she digested the magnitude of what he had just confirmed. The Wizarding World as they had known it was no more. There were too many good people dead and gone and too much darkness falling over the land.

"If I could have everyone's attention…" Dumbledore had cast Sonorus and was addressing the crowd. The murmuring trailed off and everyone waited for him to continue. "I'm happy to see you all here on this wonderful occasion. Tomorrow you will all leave Hogwarts and will take your places as productive members of adult society. Always remember how proud we are of what you have accomplished." His remarks were greeted by enthusiastic applause. "Now," he continued, "if I could have the Head Boy and Head Girl take the floor with their partners, we can get this celebration truly under way." Hermione watched, a little panicked, as Blaise Zabini led Ginny Weasley onto the dance floor and turned to look expectantly in her direction. Snape nudged her out of her seeming stupor. 

"Miss Granger, they're waiting."

"But I don't have a partner…" Hermione didn't like the way this was going. She had the feeling it was going to suddenly turn into one of those hated dreams where you ended up naked and a laughing stock in the centre of a crowd. And this time the crowd wouldn't be faceless, either.

Snape didn't know why--maybe it was the wistful tone of her voice?--but he held out his hand to her, "Then allow me the pleasure." He was rewarded with a blush.

"But everyone will talk." 

"Let them. This is a dream, remember."

"Well, when you put it that way, how can a girl resist." She accepted his hand and let him lead her to the centre of the floor to stand next to Blaise and Ginny. Ginny cocked an inquiring eyebrow at her and Hermione answered it with a Mona Lisa smile as the music began.

As they waltzed, Hermione listened to the comments chasing their way around the Great Hall.

"Is that Snape?"

"What the hell is she doing with him?"

"Is she nuts?"

"What's Snape doing with that Mudblood?" Hermione flinched at Pansy Parkinson's comment and Snape waltzed her to the opposite side of the floor from the belligerent cluster of Slytherin students without missing a beat. Hermione was pleasantly surprised by his skill and ease.

"Now you've got me wondering if you can dance this well in real life."

"It's a skill I possess but rarely use and I'd appreciate you not divulging the fact to anyone else."

She grinned wickedly at him. "Your secret is safe with me." There was a glint in her eyes that promised otherwise, but he didn't dispute her answer. "Who'd believe me anyway when you always just stalk around looking like you've got a pole stuck up your arse." She realised that her mouth had run away with itself and clapped the hand that had been resting on his shoulder over it, her cheeks colouring. Her heart sank as she braced herself for a dressing-down.

She was surprised when he burst out laughing. It was a deep, rich sound and heads all around the Great Hall turned and zeroed in on the source. Students all around stood staring, their mouths wide open at the sight of Professor Snape enjoying a belly laugh as he danced with the Head Girl. The world must have come to an end. Hell must have frozen over. There could be no other explanation for his behaviour. The crowd goggled even more when the song ended and Snape bent down to plant a kiss on the back of Hermione's hand.

"Now that we've given them something out of the ordinary to talk about, can we leave?" He pleaded softly as he straightened up.

"Let's, please," she replied. He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd and off the dance floor, ignoring the crush of stunned students moving aside to let them through.

"So, do you think we'll both remember this when I wake up?" Hermione asked as they stepped out into the manicured lawns that led down to the lake.

"We remembered the last time, didn't we? Chances are we'll remember this. Is there anything you want to tell me, Miss Granger?" Severus had seen the shadows flit behind her eyes. She was worried about something - he ventured it was probably Miss Brown from the memory of her emotions earlier. She was silent for a moment.

"It's Lavender--she's not in good shape. I mean, Voldemort repaired the awful physical damage he inflicted on her, but she's hollow and brittle. I don't know if she'll be able to take another visit from him. She told me she wishes he'd killed her tonight because she can't stand the thought of him touching her again and I really think she'll shatter if he does."

"It was that bad?" he asked, chuckling mirthlessly when she looked up at him, stricken. "What am I saying? Look who we're talking about here, Severus, of course it was bad!" he chastised himself aloud and Hermione's eyes widened.

"It's okay, I know what you meant," she laid a hand on his forearm, "I just wish there was something I could tell her to make us both feel better. I'm so scared for her and I feel like I'm being selfish because I'm thinking of what it will be like for me when she's not there any more."

"You're not being selfish, Hermione, your reaction is very human. It's our nature to think how events around us will effect us." He laid one of his hands over the one she had placed on his forearm. He wasn't very good at issuing reassurances, especially not in a situation like this but he hoped by using her given name instead of calling her Miss Granger she understood he was trying to comfort her. He watched her blink back tears from the corners of her eyes and gave her a much needed moment to compose herself. "When is he coming back next?" There was no need to elaborate on who the 'he' in question was.

"Probably the night after tomorrow at about 9:00 and I feel so bloody hopeless."

"Well, I think it's tomorrow already, so we've got about 40 hours."

"We?!?" Hermione looked up at him again, puzzled by his comment.

"Let's just say a few mutual acquaintances and I are working on something. I don't want to get your hopes up, but we'll see what we can do and I'm going to try and come see you again before the Dark Lord's next visit."

Hermione's countenance brightened at his words and somehow it felt as if he'd just lifted a huge weight off her shoulders. She opened her mouth to thank him but was wrenched from their strange dream bond before she had a chance to say anything.

***

Severus was startled awake by the suddenness of her disappearance and the rapidly dissolving landscape of the dream. He lay for a moment with his eyes closed, feeling the pulse hammer quickly in the base of his throat. Then he realised his cheek was resting on a damp, balled up cloak and he wasn't in his bed, in fact, he could feel water lapping under the boards he was lying on. He opened his eyes to find Padma Patil kneeling over him, a concerned look on her face and worried crease on her brow. She looked even more perplexed when the corners of his mouth curled up into what could only be called a grin.

"I suppose it's safe to venture I put on quite a show for you, Miss Patil?" She smiled at his comment and relief replaced worry.

"You could say that," she replied. "You conked out not long after I started into our last shift of the night. Harry couldn't wake you so he made you as comfortable as he could. Then after a while you began to talk in your sleep… well, swear actually and quite creatively too." He groaned. 

"Wonderful! Just bloody wonderful!" he muttered as he remembered the conversation he'd had with Miss Granger and tried to imagine what it had sounded like for them to hear just one side of it. He turned his head to look for Harry and found him standing at the prow of the boat in just a black jumper and jeans, the chill wind lifting tendrils of his messy hair and whipping them into his face. Snape reached for the cloak that he'd been using for a pillow, shaking it out and offering it back to the dark-haired young man who had been scanning the night sky, looking for something. 

"Thank you for the use of your cloak, Mr. Potter." 

"You're welcome," Harry replied as he bent over, took the proffered garment and shrugged into it. Padma smiled as it struck her that they were capable of having a normal conversation, after all. She looked up as he spoke again.

"They're coming." he told them, gesturing to the still-dark western skyline. Padma and Snape turned to watch three fast approaching dots on the horizon. The next shift was on their way. Thank Merlin for small mercies, as it had been a very long night. Harry put a hand out to Snape who was getting up off the floor of their small boat, the Mananan MacLir. It had been a little joke on Bill's behalf--he was hoping to bring luck to their venture by using a boat named after the ancient Celtic God of the Sea who, according to legend, had lived on the isle named for him. Snape didn't feel lucky at all. He felt old and stiff and tired beyond measure. He took Harry's hand with nary a snide comment and allowed himself to be helped up.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter." he managed, right before three wizards on brooms came to hover over them before landing carefully, one-at-a-time, in the back of the boat.

"How's it going?" Bill asked as he came to stand next to Padma in the prow.

"Have a look for yourself, you're the best judge when it comes to these things," she told him, watching expectantly as he cast Patefacio on himself.

"We've made a lot more progress than I thought we would by now!" he exclaimed and let out a low whistle of appreciation as he studied the partially unravelled network of wards, delighted at how far their work had come in a mere twenty-four hours.

"How far do you think we can get in the next 36 hours or so?" Snape queried. Bill looked at him.

"Did something happen?"

"Another trance," Harry supplied.

"Bloody Hell!" This time it was Ron who spoke, the look on his face speaking volumes. "More bad news, I take it?" Snape nodded.

"Hermione is very worried about Miss Brown." Padma noticed the headmaster had called Hermione by her given name, something he'd never done before. She glanced over at Harry and the speculative look on his face told her he'd noticed it too. "She's not holding up well from being the object of Voldemort's attention and Hermione thinks Miss Brown might break the next time she is summoned." There, he'd called her Hermione twice in the span of a minute. They hadn't imagined it.

"That'll happen in 36 hours?" Blaise joined the conversation, taking up for Ron, who was looking like he might collapse. 

"A little over 39 hours now," Harry answered Blaise. Snape raised a questioning brow at him and Harry continued, "well, we could hear what you were saying, even if we hadn't a clue what it was all about. You weren't exactly whispering, you know."

"Mr. Potter is correct, " Snape told them, "I intended to give us a few extra hours to play with."

"I don't know if we'll be able to have them all down in 36 hours." Bill studied the remaining wards. "Is there any way we can buy ourselves some more time?" he asked, tightly gripping the rail of the boat as his mind worked overtime on their latest problem.

"Can we do something to stop the next visit, or at least put it back a bit?" Blaise directed the question to his old Head of House. Snape's eyes lit up at the question.

"That's it! We're going to need a diversion. Something big enough to distract him so much he can't make the scheduled appointment."

"The Gunpowder Plot!" Harry smiled as he spoke.

"What does that mean?" Ron asked, used to hearing his friends talk about things he hadn't a clue about over the years.

"We're going to blow up the Houses of Parliament."

"We're what?" Four voices chorused. Snape was sitting silently, watching Harry with look of approval on his usually dour face.

"Figuratively. The Gunpowder Plot was an unsuccessful attempt to blow up the Muggle government a few hundred years back. It was engineered by a group of rebels led by a man named Guy Fawkes. We're going to take a leaf out of their book and hit the Ministry of Magic, but they're not going to know it's just a bluff this time. As far as they'll know, it's a coup attempt. In and out as fast as we can, get them focussing their attention on the attack and London. I can't see old Voldy keeping his appointment with Lavender when he's got something like that to worry about. How long would it take for Charlie and his lot to get here?"

"They could be here in 24 hours, I'm sure," Bill answered, understanding what Harry had in mind.

"Dragons, Harry?" a now-recovered Ron asked as it dawned on him what calling Charlie in meant.

"They're fast and magic resistant and they pack quite the punch. We're just going to stir things up. We'll hit them where they're comfortable and give them something to keep them on their toes and hurt their pride. Charlie and his friends can hightail it back into hiding immediately while we lay a few false trails for them to follow. What do you think?"

"I think it might just do the trick. Just make sure there are no trails that lead anywhere close to here." Bill smiled as he envisioned the havoc they'd wreak. "We can't work any faster than we're already doing on the wards. In 36 hours we'll almost be there but probably only starting the stage where we'll have to work underwater. If this attack gains us even 24 hours, that should be enough." 

"Alright then, we'll key back to The Hall to get the ball rolling while you lot get cracking here." 

"Sounds like a plan!" Bill answered, his wand out and already working at unravelling the next ward around the brothel. 

***

Draco climbed out of the clearing fog in his brain. His head was pounding, he was aching all over and he was afraid to open his eyes. _What had happened?_ he wondered for a moment before it all came flooding back with such bright and painful clarity that his stomach dropped out from under him and his head spun. He fought the nausea and struggled to sit up, realising after a moment that it was impossible because he was restrained. He tested the bonds and sank back into the pillow as he found he was held tight.

"_Fuck_!" he swore silently as he realised someone could be in the room with him. He stilled. He listened. Nothing.

He cracked open an eyelid, peering warily out the slit. Still nothing but the flicker of shadows and light on the wall beyond. The room was candlelit, albeit dimly. If there was someone in the room with him they already knew he was awake thanks to his struggle with his bonds so he opened the other eye and turned his head slowly towards the light. 

A curly-haired girl in worn, brown robes sat silently in the chair next to the bed, her head bowed so her features were hidden from his view.

__

Hermione! Her name sprung into his mind unbidden. Why was she sitting there looking so forlorn? What was the matter? She wasn't hurt, was she? Now where did that thought come from? When had he ever cared if she'd been knocked around before? Wasn't that a favourite thing of his own to do with her?

The sound of a door opening got his full attention and he looked over to see the back of a house-elf disappearing from the room as the door swung closed behind it. As the slam echoed hollowly, a harbinger of doom, the girl raised her head to look at him. There was something different about her. She seemed more defiant than usual and she met his gaze. 

"That foul creature has gone to fetch your father," she informed him. He knew right away which rotten piece of work it had been as there was only one house elf around this place that fit the description. Even Draco (a right piece of work himself) felt soiled when he was around Nasty. 

"What did you do?" Hermione hissed the question at him, lips barely moving--fully aware that someone could be eavesdropping. "I've never seen your father as angry as this," her gaze bored into him. Any other time he'd have smacked her for that but he didn't have the energy to any more, not to mention the fact he was still tied to the bed.

"Untie me," he directed.

"I can't," she answered, a conflicted look on her face.

"Why not?" He felt his blood pressure rise at her defiance.

"Your father told me I wasn't to do anything you asked me to and he's stronger than you are." She was referring to the double Imperius they'd laid on her--Draco might have reined her in first, but his father's curse was more powerful than his own, a fact that grated on him.

"Fair enough," he quipped, pretending to be nonchalant about the whole thing. 

She was still staring suspiciously at him from under the curtain of sleep-tangled curls that hid her face when the door slammed open, its handle gouging into the wall and sticking there as Lucius Malfoy strode in to stare thunderously at his offspring. An unsettling, fawning creature trailed in to the room behind him and shielded itself from their scrutiny behind his heavy velvet cloak.

"I hope you are happy, son!" Lucius began, "You've exposed us to ridicule with your actions, do you realise that?" He paced back and forth for a minute before his gaze lit upon Hermione, who was trying to avoid his notice and make herself as small as possible in the chair she was sitting in. "And for what?!?" He strode across the scant few feet that separated him from the girl, threaded his hands through her knotted curls and dragged her to her feet. "For this!!!" he barked as he shoved her face down towards his son's, stopping just short of cracking their skulls together.

Draco met Hermione's gaze and read the accusation there. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault. 

She was right… it _was _all his fault. If he hadn't taken her from the battlefield, none of this would ever have happened. He didn't answer his father, knowing it would infuriate him more than anything and slowly turned his head to concentrate on the shadows playing on the wall behind him.

"I think it's high past time I taught you a lesson, son." He heard his father mutter before hearing Hermione gasp in pain as she was thrown roughly against the wall next to the chair. He could see their shadows interacting and closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to watch it play out like some perverse shadow-puppet show.

Lucius actually had Hermione pinned to the wall, knee between her legs and forearm across her neck and shoulders to keep her still. His mouth was on her ear and he was whispering insidious commands to her. Hermione had her eyes closed in a vain attempt to stop any tears from betraying her. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Lucius stepped away from her and let her slide down the wall to sit in a graceless heap. The elder Malfoy then turned his attention to the younger Malfoy.

"Your mother and I have been far too indulgent with you recently and it shows." He grabbed Draco by the chin and forcefully turned his face so their eyes met. Draco gazed hatefully at his father through slitted eyes.

"Is that what you call it?" he spat out. 

"That's exactly what I'd call it. You are spoiled, Draco, and that will not do. Lord Voldemort despises weakness, and you have one that cannot be tolerated," Lucius swept his hand back to indicate Hermione, "but we're going to fix that aren't we, Mudblood?" Hermione looked up as he addressed her and nodded weakly, watching powerlessly as he removed his wand from its ornate holster on his belt and pointed it at his son.

"Imperio."

***

A/N - Well, it's been a while since I've updated, and I'm sorry about that (home renovations are evil). I hope it was worth the wait and I want to say thanks to everyone who nudged me to get on with it and write this chapter. Your reviews and support mean a lot to me.

There are 3 pictures I want to share with you this time out. Two are drawn by me and the other by my good friend, Sidsel. You can find them at my group Den of Divinity--you'll find the link in my author profile.

Sidsel's picture is a parody of ANTR and can be found in the Harry Potter Artwork folder in the files section. It's called Gift Art and shows me as the director in between scenes with the players. 

My pieces are a portrait of Lavender and a scene from the dream sequence called Minuet and can be found in the photos folder called Art from A Night To Remember 


	12. Catharsis

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Draco felt his stomach roil as the curse took him over.  It was a most unpleasant sense of deja-vu.  He thought back to the last time his father had cast this curse upon him.   He'd been eight years old.  He'd also been a whiny, teary-eyed, weak-willed milksop.   He could recall the disappointment in his father's eyes every time he looked at him.   He remembered it like it was yesterday.  

*

Lucius had grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him into his private study where he directed him forcefully into the wing-backed armchair on the other side of his desk.   He remembered his mother flitting nervously to the door, peeking around the lintel with a panicked look on her face as she read the intent in her husband's eyes. 

"Don't you have some charity or other to attend to?"  His question was biting, closed off.  It brooked no argument.   She shook her head vigorously.  "Well, go find something to do!" 

"But he's still so young…" she tried to argue before she was cut off by a cold and warning glance.

"He can't afford to have any weaknesses at all, not in our world."

She had nodded then and flushed, as if she was embarrassed at the show of her maternal side. "I know, but I can't help it.  He's my child."

"You can't afford the weakness either and you know it.  Go and be the model wife I was led to believe you'd be and  raise money for St. Mungo's or  the '81 Slaughter Survivor's Fund," he snorted at the mention of the latter charity.   It was to be expected when he'd helped create it through his actions as a Death Eater, although Draco hadn't understood the accompanying sneer at the time. 

"Don't interfere," Lucius had warned her when Narcissa held his gaze for a little longer than was good for her health.  Just two words, but they held so much weight.   Draco watched his mother close her face off--she thought he couldn't know what she was going through.  She'd been wrong.  She had glanced at him for a moment, unable to help herself, before she turned away and in those few seconds he had read everything in her eyes. 

*

He recalled how his mother had become inured to their life in the years since his father had 'corrected' his behaviour.   She never batted an eyelid at anything Lucius did anymore.  In fact, over time he'd come to expect to see her standing at his father's elbow, supporting him no matter what it was he did.  Draco remembered how he had sat mute, terrified at the exchange going on in front of him.  Now that he thought about it, he knew that so many corrupt things were engraved on his psyche that day and it seemed it was time to revisit them.  Although now that he was an adult the fear that shot through him resonated at a deeper level.  He went cold at the thought of what twisted and sickly-inventive torture his father would inflict on him now he was grown.   

***

The trio port-keyed into the middle of The Hall that served as  nerve-centre of Resistance operations. As Harry raised a hand to his mouth to mask a yawn that threatened to consume him, he noticed a grim-faced, short, homely man standing by the fireplace with his arms folded tightly across his chest, slender fingers drumming impatiently on his forearms.

"Bad news, Colin?" Harry asked as he walked over to the slightly-built photographer. Colin wasn't in the habit of coming here while wearing his disguises. He usually waited to get out of his makeup before reporting in as it was bad for his health to appear here as anyone but himself. Colin unfolded his arms, raised his hands to sweep his lank, oily fringe back from his forehead and sighed.

"I'm not even sure where to start, Harry," he admitted as he started to pace back and forth, "there's so much to tell."

"Is it that bad?" Padma asked Colin as she came up behind Harry and ran a familiar hand up his spine to rest at the back of his neck. It was a comforting and intimate gesture, one she knew he loved.

"I honestly don't know what to make of it, so it probably is that bad," Colin conceded. 

Severus walked over to stand on the other side of Harry. "Well out with it, Mr. Creevey, surely you must know by now we _live_ for bad news," he told the young man dryly as he crossed his arms tightly against his chest and looked at him down his nose in the classic 'Head of Slytherin' pose that had struck so much terror into them all when they were in school. 

Padma almost choked on her own spit at his remark and how he'd coupled it with his famous intimidating stare. Snape could be subversively funny when he wanted to. She'd recognised that in him as she'd grown up under his tutelage. His subtle humour had been readily apparent to most of the students who made the cut and advanced to N.E.W.T. level Potions. There had been passing respect on both sides, something that had surprised the senior students.  It had seemed to them that the one class he actually enjoyed teaching had been N.E.W.T Potions.   The smaller class had been made up of students from all four houses and he'd seemed happy to be rid of the dunderheads who were excluded from the course thanks to their abysmal results in their Potions O.W.L.   The lessons were challenging and there was rarely an opportunity for him to take points off anyone thanks to the competence of those who had advanced to the N.E.W.T. level course.   Padma and Hermione were partnered during that time and they'd both remark in whispers over their cauldron about how pleasant he seemed compared to the Snape who had guided them from first year through their O.W.L.s, although they'd both observed he'd gotten fairer and more temperate towards them both during their fifth year. Harry glanced over at her and raised an eyebrow as he fought to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up into a smile. Padma grinned back at him. Harry was completely aware of her deep-seated fondness for the man standing next to him. He considered it to be an irritating yet endearing flaw in her character.  Truth be told, his own relationship with the Headmaster had changed over the past two years.  True, you couldn't call Harry and Severus friends, not by a longshot, but they had learned to work together quite well in that time. 

"There was trouble at The Chimaera.  I had to take a girl to St. Mungo's last night "

"Isn't there always trouble at The Chimaera?" Harry asked, brow still raised.

"Not of this sort.  It's not every day you get to see Draco Malfoy flip his lid in public."  Colin had their complete attention now and all three heads were turned towards him, their faces betraying a morbid fascination. "I was sitting in a shadowed corner of the pub, quietly minding everyone else's business like I always do, when he stormed into the place in a foul mood. He was sitting with a bottle in front of himself and was knocking its contents back straight. He looked so completely pissed off that people were making a point of not meeting his eyes."

"What happened?" Padma prodded him apprehensively.

"A girl with absolutely no sense of self-preservation sat down at his table and the next thing you know she was slamming back into the bottles behind the bar, shattering them as she slid out of sight." 

Padma winced. "The girl you took to St. Mungo's?" she asked.

"No that was a different girl again. You know, now that I think of it that girl reminded me a little of Hermione--in a cheap, Knockturn Alley sort of way, of course," he amended when he noticed Snape's brows knit together at his observation and Harry and Padma glance at each other worriedly.

"And what happened to that one?" the Headmaster asked.

"Impaled on a sliver of the shattered mirror that came down with all the bottles," Colin elaborated, "she didn't make it."

"I think we had better sit down," Severus stated, exhaling loudly, betraying how much Colin's observation of the girl's resemblance to Hermione–and her subsequent demise–had affected him, "as it sounds like this will take a while." The legs of the chairs scraped loudly over the stone floor as they were pulled out and the exhausted quartet settled into them. Snape conjured a pot of strong tea along with milk, sugar, and wedges of lemon on a tray with china mugs on the side and poured a draught for everyone as Colin began to tell them of his undercover adventures last night. 

***

Hermione was terrified beyond belief.  Lucius Malfoy did that to her every time.  There was something about him–something lurking in the back of his eyes–that screamed he was unhinged, but until now it was like she hadn't really realised to what extent.  She knew he was one of the most evil bastards in the wizarding world but she'd never believed he'd go so far as to punish his son in this way, let alone use her as an instrument.  Of course, he'd been able to keep Draco in check with just a word in the past.  She recalled the instructions Lucius had whispered in her ear as he held her pinned against the wall and tried to collect herself.

Before the victory of the Dark Lord, the elder Malfoy had held his psychopathic tendencies in check behind a practised and polished veneer of civility.  He had always been extremely conscious of the finely crafted facade he presented to the world at large and cultivated it with care.   More and more, that veneer was rubbing off to expose who he was–who he really was.  No wonder she always had that intense knife blade of fear twisting in her guts when she was in the same room as him.   

She'd been surprised Lucius hadn't just up and killed her when he realised Draco had become obsessed with her and she was still waiting for it to happen.   Only the thought that he still had plans for her where Professor Snape was concerned eased her fear a little.  If he still thought she could be of use, he wouldn't kill her... yet.    She was roused from her thoughts by the sound of Malfoy Sr. issuing orders to the house elf that was his shadow.

"Nasty, go and fetch the largest silver bowl you can find and bring it back here."

The elf didn't answer but without raising her head from where it rested, cradled on her knees, Hermione knew that he'd nodded and blinked out to do his master's bidding.   What did he need a large bowl for?  The wonderful world of human sacrifice and subsequent associated bloodletting?

***

They had finally gotten through the chaos of the morning that had taken a stranglehold of their time  the moment they returned from their shift on the wards.  Harry and Padma were swaying with exhaustion when they left the other resistance members, now led by a touchingly animated Ginny who had come into her element with the challenge of co-ordinating the tasks they'd charged her with.  Ginny had been complaining for months about not having any real purpose and about being marginalised because she was pregnant and her belief that her brothers were trying to save her mother from the grief of losing anyone else.  It wasn't all true, every single person in the resistance had been marginalised due to the fact they didn't really have any clear plan of attack against Voldemort's ministry and because Ginny was carrying a new life within her, she'd become even more precious to the other resistance members.  She represented a hope for them that seemed almost impossible.  Only with Snape's recent discovery of the prostituted prisoners had they come together with a renewed sense of purpose, sure that they could do something other than dart out of their various foxholes for small-scale manoeuvres that had about as much of an effect as a gnat trying to chew through an elephant's hide.    

Their smiles were weary yet indulgent as they wended their way through the hewn corridors to the particular cavern they called home.  There weren't any doors in this place, it was too much hassle and they didn't want to think about the possibility they might end up living here for years to come if things continued the way they'd been going.  Private quarters with doors seemed to suggest a permanence here they weren't ready to face.  Beds and cots tended to be thrust into the shadiest corner of the room, tucked in behind stacked boxes and crates, where what little privacy that could be afforded in a place such as this could be taken advantage of.  It worked for the most part. Everyone understood the need for privacy and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible.   Their cots had been pushed together in the corner of one of the larger storerooms, hidden behind a five-foot tall wall of cardboard boxes containing tins of various fruits and vegetables procured from the nearest Tesco.

It wasn't the most romantic setting but stolen moments were special and the stark functionality of the surroundings tended to fade in recollection.  Harry had thrown himself on to his cot with a groan of pleasure, not bothering to take off his cloak or shoes.  He really didn't care if he was comfortable or not, he was just bone tired and needed to shut his eyes.  Padma shook her head at him as she shrugged out of her own cloak.  He grinned widely at her as she took the time to shake it out and transfigure it into a blanket.  

"What are you grinning for?" she queried, clutching the blanket to her chest.   "If you think I'm sharing this with you, you're mad... stark raving mad."

"Oh, come on, share with me," he cajoled.

"I don't think so, you're a terrible blanket hog, Harry,"she told him in what was to be the start of their nightly argument,  "I'll end up freezing my arse off and you'll be a toasty and oblivious sausage roll, never mind that I'll end up sleeping on the hump in the middle and will wake up stiff as a board."

"No you won't,"he promised solemnly but his eyes were dancing.

"Right you are, you bloody liar," Padma's voice was soft as she held out her hand to him.  "Come on, let me help you get out of your cloak.  You'll toss and turn all night otherwise and I'll get no sleep." 

Harry offered her his hand but stayed limp, making a big production of it as she yanked him upright.  "I really am going to kick your arse if you don't cut it out,"she admonished.  He could be really giddy and child-like when he was exhausted but when it was him she never minded playing mother.  "Help me out here."

Harry grinned again and slid the cloak off his shoulders.  As Padma transfigured it into a second blanket he kicked off his trainers, letting them fall to bounce off the stone floor and come to rest in two different spots under the cot.  He'd regret it in the morning when he'd have to go questing for them but he was too tired to care at the moment.    He rolled under the tent that had formed as Padma fluffed the blankets, and watched them float to rest over the cots.  He waited for Padma to tuck in the bottom corner of the blanket she claimed as her own so that he couldn't steal it and wrap himself up in it during the night and held the blankets up so she could climb in and snuggle up against him, spoon style.  

She fit so well against him, a fact that always seemed to make him pause for thought while he offered up a prayer.  He kissed the back of her neck and ran a hand up her side from knee to waist and was rewarded by a soft hand reaching back to caress his face.

"I love you, Padma," he whispered into her ear as he nipped on her earlobe.

"Love you too, Harry," she replied softly as she turned her head so they could kiss.

The lay for a few minutes in the dark in that state that falls between fatigue and true sleep before Padma spoke and broke the silence.  "Do you really think it's going to work, Harry?"

"I bloody well hope so, Love," he answered after a moment.

"I'm scared."

"Me too.  It'd be stupid to not be scared, especially with the lives of so many of our friends at stake.  Ron's a basket case from worrying too much about Lavender and Hermione and I'm hoping that when we pull them out they'll be able to recover from everything they've been put through.   I know that Hermione is strong willed and stubborn as an ox, but that doesn't stop me from worrying about her either. " He pulled her closer to him, folding his arms around her protectively.  

"I'm worried about the headmaster."

"Why ever for?"

"It's not like him but he seems to have an emotional stake in this one."

"You've noticed that too?"

"Mm-hmm, if you know what you're looking for, it isn't hard to see."

"Well, I hope he'll be able to hide it from the other lot because there'll be a world of trouble if they pick up on it."  It wasn't really a thought Harry had wanted to have stuck in his head just as he went to sleep, but it was just another log to fuel the fire of his recent worries.  He couldn't remember the last time they'd actually gotten a decent night's sleep.  He couldn't remember a time when they weren't numb from the toll of living under the radar in a Wizarding England headed by Voldemort.  It seemed like a lifetime ago and he was getting sick and tired of being sick and tired of it..

***

Nasty had returned and was standing in the doorway with a large silver bowl in his hands and a look of absolute hunger on his face.

_"Sick little fuck!" _Hermione thought when she glanced up and saw his look of anticipation.  It was no wonder that Lucius kept him around to do all his dirty work.  He was so efficient at what he did it wasn't funny and she didn't want to dwell on the fact that he seemed to enjoy it.  She wondered for the umpteenth time if he wasn't related to the Black family's house elf, Kreacher.   Then she noticed the look on Malfoy Senior's face and her stomach dropped out from under her.  _"Oh, God, breathe..."  _she told herself.  She'd never seen a more predatory grin on his face in all the times she'd been in his presence, and she'd had some close encounters with him these past six months.  She had to admit to herself that this one took the biscuit.

"Draco,"his father drawled, "are you ready to pay the piper?"

"Bring it on, Old Man,"Draco sneered, deliberately defiant.  

"As you wish, Draco, but let it be said that you brought all of this on yourself."

"If you're looking for absolution from _your_ sins you won't find it here," Draco snapped.

"Who said I wanted absolution, son?"  Lucius shook his head and started to laugh.

***

Severus had almost stumbled over the threshold of Hogwarts, exhausted as he was from lack of sleep over the past week.  He'd been surprised to find Professor Sprout sitting on the bench in the entryway.  He raised a questioning brow at her and she smiled as she stood up and came to support him, holding his forearm fast so he couldn't pull it from her grasp. 

"Have you been receiving a certain visitor in your quarters?" he asked, suspiciously,  as she tucked her arm through his.

"And what visitor would that be, Severus?" enquired the stout Head of Hufflepuff who also acted as his unofficial Deputy Headmistress.  Voldemort had assigned someone new and untrusted to the position, but the remaining staff who'd stood behind Dumbledore had other ideas.  They'd quietly formed their own cadre and the new teachers were not part of the equation.  There was a whole rank and file of staff at Hogwarts that operated apart from Voldemort's administration.

"A certain, annoying, white-bearded Son of a Bitch who has recently learned how to furtively jump from picture to goddamn portrait in this place." he muttered, sotto-voce. 

"I haven't a clue what you're on about," she answered immediately, her eyes dancing in a way that condemned her as guilty while she protested  her innocence, "really."  Pomona grinned at him then, and he grasped his forehead as if he was in pain.  And if you really thought about it, he was in pain as  Pomona and Albus operating in tandem were about as subtle as being dashed about the head with the largest rock one could find.  Couple that with the fatigue that leeched into every bone in his body and you were faced with veritable torture.

"At least don't torment me until I've had a chance to collect my wits," he begged his colleague.   A sense of terror gnawed at the edges of his consciousness and he wondered what was happening to Hermione.  His nerves were frayed and the all-pervasive sense of unease that had settled into his bones was starting to burn holes in his stomach.  He stood for a moment biting back the bile that had made its way into his throat.  He really wasn't up for whatever it was that Dumbledore had in mind.  He hoped Pomona would see it without him having to say anything.  

"Now, would I do that?"she asked seriously.

"You wouldn't but I'm not so sure about the other one," the Headmaster retorted.

***

Pomona took a moment to pour herself a cup of green tea before settling in the large, squashy armchair in her quarters.  As she pulled her feet up under herself, she heard a throat clearing and looked up into the picture on the wall above her fireplace.   Albus was there, sitting on a mossy log in an old forest as a green-haired  wood nymph sat behind him and massaged his shoulders.

"You didn't bring him with you?" his question was half-scolding.

"Severus is dead on his feet, Albus, it can wait until he gets a few hours of shut-eye."

"He's quite an annoying lad, you know.  He's the only person on staff who doesn't have a painting in his bedroom."

I'd call him quite smart.  He values his privacy and his sleep.  You'd be waking him up at all hours of the night with pearls of wisdom, ideas and questions if you had a way to get into his room."  The Head of Hufflepuff took a long, gulping draught of her tea.

"I would not!" Albus retorted.  Pomona just smiled at him over the rim of her cup.  "Did he tell you anything?"

"No, he didn't, but he did say he'd come see me here when he woke up in a few hours."

"I hate waiting," Albus complained, much in the manner of a petulant child, 

"You always have," Pomona pointed out, resting the half-full cup on her lap as she stifled a yawn.  The former headmaster has woken her up this morning far too early for it to be funny.

"Yes, but at least when I was corporeal I could find ways to pass the time.  I could indulge my sweet tooth, for example."

"And getting a massage from a pretty nymph isn't  a great way to pass time?"she scoffed, "I'd say lean back and enjoy yourself, Severus will be here soon enough and you probably won't like what he has to say.  Think of it as a pre-emptive massage so you'll be able to stay relaxed."  Professor Sprout drained the last of the tea from her cup and stood up.  "I'm going down to supervise breakfast, the children are always so much more boisterous when Severus isn't there to glare at them all.  I'll be back in time for his visit."  She couldn't help but smirk on her way out of the room as she heard the nymph admonish Albus to relax.

***

Lavender winced, hissing as she swung herself off the bed, still stiff and very sore (the aftermath of the rapid healing she'd been subjected to earlier).   She'd been jolted awake by the sound of the door slamming and looked over to see Hermione, swaying on her knees in the middle of the room.   She was horrified at the state of her friend, her arms and legs a bruised and bloodied roadmap of the violence she'd endured.  What had happened to her?  Had she been with Voldemort too?  

"Hermione?" Lavender asked softly, unprepared for what she saw on her friend's face as Hermione raised her gaze to meet hers.  Had that been what she'd looked like earlier?  It was like Hermione was looking right through her.  She reached a hand out to touch her friend's shoulder, to snap her back to the here and now but before she had a chance to make contact the curly haired girl seemed to come out of her trance and focus on Lavender's face.

"Oh my God, Lavender, thank Heaven it's you, thank Heaven it's you!"  Hermione sounded almost hysterical as her hands reached out to grasp on to her friend's forearms.  She was trembling uncontrollably. 

"Are you all right?" Lavender queried, watching as Hermione shook her head.

"I'm not sure I'll ever be all right again," Hermione replied, bursting into tears.  Lavender swept her into a hug and comforted her with  murmured reassurances, amazed at how quickly their roles had reversed.   It hadn't been all that long since Hermione had been the one doing the comforting while she'd been the one having a breakdown.   She hated this place and what they had been reduced to.  Here she was, a scant few hours after wishing she had died, trying to instil hope into the person who had been her crutch – the one person who had always been so strong out of all the captives here.  What had they done to her?  

***

Severus had looked in on Fawkes and was glad to find he was still nestled contentedly next to the blazing fireplace in his sitting room.  He'd instructed the house elves to keep the fire stoked and was happy to see they'd done as he'd directed.   That was one more worry off his mind, for which he was thankful.  It was nice to know something was going right.   After taking a minute to bend down and stroke the little phoenix's head, he stripped off his cloak and robes on his way to the bedroom, dropping them to the floor where he shrugged out them and neglecting to pick them up.  He was too tired to care about the mess right at this moment.   He couldn't even risk taking a Dreamless Sleep potion because he had promised to meet with Professor Sprout in her quarters in a scant few hours.  He picked up the edge of his bedcovers and slipped underneath, wrapping himself up in the blankets, which he tugged up to his chin, and falling asleep almost as soon as his head had hit the pillow.

Within minutes, Snape found himself dreaming but it was an odd disjointed dream that was full of shadows and obscure images he had trouble identifying.    After a moment of puzzling it out in the back of his mind, he knew what was wrong.  This wasn't his dream.  Like before, he had somehow touched Hermione's mind and been dragged in.  But how?  He was back at Hogwarts.  The pull should not have been strong enough to do that at this distance.   

*

"No!  Stop it!" Severus was walking along a corridor that somehow seemed familiar when he heard a voice that gave him pause.    It sounded like it was coming from behind a door a little farther down the hallway.  As he reached out to turn the jewelled handle, he realised where he was and frowned.  Hermione was dreaming of the brothel and the voice that had stopped him in his tracks had been that of Draco Malfoy.  Given what he had learned from Colin Creevey this morning he was seized with a sudden sense of dread.   Was this dream the product of all she had suffered recently, or was it a memory she was reliving in her sleep?  Either way, it made him ill to realise he might experience it.  

He opened the door and peered carefully around it and into the room, his jaw dropping as his mind wrapped itself around the scene he'd come upon.  

Hermione, naked, bruised and bloodied was standing over and equally naked, bruised and bloodied Draco Malfoy, who was scrambling away from her on his elbows.  She had a wild, trapped look on her face and Draco's expression was one of fear and horror.

"Well, go on then, girl, do as you were bid and _do_ stop struggling Draco, for God's sake."  Severus' head snapped around at the sound of that voice, shocked to find Lucius was witness to what was going on in this room.   The elder Malfoy was sitting in a large, upholstered armchair in the corner of the room.  His outer robes were lying across one arm of the chair and he sat relaxed, in shirt-sleeves that were spattered with blood, his wand trained on the pair in front of him.  Severus watched as Draco went still and Hermione advanced on him again.  

"Hermione?" Severus called out after clearing his throat had not garnered the attention of anyone in the room.  "Hermione, stop!" She didn't acknowledge she'd heard him so he stepped into the room, never taking his eyes of Lucius and his wand, yet watching the scene between Hermione and Draco unfold with morbid fascination.

Hermione raised a hand to Draco's cheek and touched it.  Severus could see her hand was trembling and he wondered what the hell Lucius was playing at.   He watched as Draco flinched and whimpered.  Hermione's touch lengthened into a caress that threaded down his neck and chest and Draco pulled away from her with a moan, lunging for a large silver bowl sitting on the floor by the wall.  He wrapped his arms around it and retched the contents of his stomach into it.  Severus' nostrils flared as he noticed the acrid smell of vomit for the first time and realised it had been present from the time he'd stepped through the door.   His gaze flicked back to Hermione and he could tell she was barely keeping herself together as she watched Malfoy junior wipe his mouth and gasp for air.   Snape then turned to look at Lucius and was not surprised by the look on his face.  He'd seen it enough times over the years to know the twisted bastard was enjoying whatever he had orchestrated here.  

Draco pushed himself up from the bowl and a house elf stepped out of the shadows behind Lucius to magic the bilious contents away before melting back into the darkness next to his master.

"Mudblood, it seems that my son needs to catch his breath for a moment.  Come here," Hermione didn't immediately move, but after a moment she wove her way unsteadily towards Malfoy Sr., every step a struggle.   Severus stepped forward to block her path and prevent her from obeying Lucius but it didn't make a difference.  It was like he wasn't there at all.  Unlike the other dreams he'd been pulled into, he couldn't interact with her.  Here he was just an ineffectual spectator.  He watched, upset, as Hermione came to a halt next to Lucius.

As he followed the man's hand on its snaking journey along Hermione's thigh and waist he felt the bile rising in his own throat and wasn't sure that he wouldn't need to use the bowl on the floor himself.  An odd feeling of anger seized him and he fought down the urge to throttle the life out of Lucius. 

If there was nothing he could do here, he didn't want to be here.  He did not want to watch Lucius abuse Hermione.  He didn't even want to see Draco get hurt, even though the boy was rotten to the core and was responsible for Hermione's situation.    Severus wanted to close his eyes and shut out the scene in front of him but he couldn't.  A part of him had to know what was happening even as he needed to look away.  He studied the look on her face as she endured Lucius' touch.  He could tell by the way she held herself that she'd distanced herself from the situation as much as she was able to.  Severus glanced at the battered young man on the floor.

Draco was watching his father and Hermione from underneath his brows.  Severus was surprised by the hatred he saw there.   Lucius had seen it too but he seemed more amused by it than anything.  "What's the matter, boy?" his father mocked.  "Can't wait your turn?  Do you miss her touch already?"

Draco shook his head mutely but the pause before he did so hadn't gone unnoticed..  

"You disappoint me, son.  The whole purpose of this exercise is to break your obsession with this creature.   Why don't we start again?  When we're finished here, you'll never want to touch her again, I can assure you."

Lucius stood up and pulled Hermione across the room to stand over Draco once more.  "Now I'd like you to be more aggressive this time, Mudblood.  Don't let his simpering and whimpering put you off the task, you hear?"  Hermione nodded hesitantly and Lucius continued, "and let's add a little something more into the mix, shall we?  Crucio."   Lucius smiled as Draco immediately began to writhe in pain as he was wracked by the effects of the curse for the second time that day.  

"Let's see the effect your loving touch has on him now, Mudblood," Lucius commanded and Hermione knelt down next to Draco and reached out a shaking hand to brush the hair back that had fallen into his eyes as he tried to stop himself from thrashing around on the floor.  Severus could see the panic in the boy's eyes as the first feather light stroke registered with him. 

"Please, Granger, don't touch me," he begged in a desperate voice as he tried to pull out of her reach.

"I'm sorry," was all she could whisper as her touch got bolder and more deliberate.  She listened to him moan in pain as her fingertips trailed across his face and neck.  

"Now kiss him," Lucius ordered as he settled back into the chair to watch, his wand lazily covering the room.

Snape crossed the room to stand next to the chair where Lucius was sitting.  He could see Hermione's face from here and was surprised to see tenderness and pain written there.   She looked genuinely sorry to be inflicting this on Draco.  Severus felt a twinge of something suspiciously like jealousy in his breast as he watched Hermione lean over and press her lips to Draco's. 

Draco whimpered again and tore himself away from her, gasping as the pain of the Crucio and the Imperio directive fought for supremacy in him.  He had tears streaming down his cheeks as he lunged for the bowl again and heaved into it.  Severus could see blood mixed in with the bile this time and knew this evening's 'entertainment' had been going on for some time already.

Severus blanched as he realised what Lucius had done to his son.  Thanks to the Imperius curse the man had made Hermione's touch poison to Draco.   He had been witness to similar scenes in his past and wasn't surprised to recall that Lucius had been present each time.   It was sort of a signature if you thought about it.

*

Snape shot up in bed, covered his face in his hands and tried to collect himself.  The dream had ended so abruptly that he'd been startled awake.  His heart pounded in his chest and his pulse was racing.  He felt sick to his stomach and realised that it wasn't just his own feelings that were washing over him.  He could feel Hermione in his mind and she was so upset it scared him.  It took five whole minutes of deep breathing before he could even swing his legs off the bed and the day was still young.

A/N  - While I have some excuse for this chapter being so tardy (my dad had a heart attack and subsequent bypass surgery and my mum is getting worse with her own illnesses and the computer crashing and us losing everything, including this chapter which wasn't saved or backed up to disc and had to be reconstructed from scratch), I really have no excuse for this chapter taking as long as it did.   I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed so far.  Thank you all very much.  I have only one pic to offer this time and it's a portrait of Snape looking pensive that you can find users can just hit my profile to find my yahoo group.  You'll be able to find the chapter and the art there).

Karen


	13. Turn, turn, turn

"Hermione, wake up!" Hermione was dragged awake by Lavender's insistent shaking. She cracked open an eye and mumbled a complaint before her eyes fell shut once more. Again she found herself being shaken. "Wake up, Hermione, you were having a nightmare."

"I was?" she asked as she struggled to prop herself up on her elbow and rouse herself from the surreal dream world she'd been inhabiting. Lavender nodded at her and Hermione noticed her friend was shaking uncontrollably.

"Did I wake you up?" Hermione's question was voiced as an apology as she knew what shape her cellmate was in.

"I wasn't sleeping, if that's what you're worried about. I can't sleep. I was just looking out the window, watching the sun coming up over the sea and then you started to cry. You'd been tossing and turning and whimpering a bit before that but then it turned into outright sobbing so that's why I roused you."

Hermione lifted a hand to her eyes. They were damp and gummy so she sat up and spent a minute wiping the sleep out of them and yawning so wide that her jaw cracked. "Oh, bugger," she swore as she recalled what she had been dreaming about.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lavender nudged her out of her trance.

"Not really, but I'm sure it's considered a good idea in some book or other. Give me a minute to wake up here." She swung herself off the bed and limped to the small table that housed the enchanted mirror along with a jug of cold water, a bowl and a worn hand towel. She poured some water into the bowl and dipped the towel into the water, marvelling at the bruises on her face as she washed away the sleep from her bloodshot eyes.

"You look awful, dear!" the mirror exclaimed in a horrified voice. "You should really start taking better care of yourself."

"Oh, piss off you useless thing!" Hermione snapped at it, her nerves frayed.

"There's no need to be rude," the mirror replied indignantly, which started Lavender laughing.

"You should have heard the bloody thing talking to me earlier," she gasped hoarsely when she'd collected herself a few minutes later; "I was so tempted to smash it." Her comment brought a smile to Hermione's face as she came to stand next to Lavender and stare out the window at the horizon.

"Look at that sunrise, will you," Hermione sighed wistfully, "it's hard to believe we're stuck in this depraved place when there's such a beautiful day dawning out there."

"I know. It's hard to remember that we've only been here for about six months as it feels like it's been a lifetime."

"More like an eternity in Hell." They met each other's eyes, but looked away after a moment.

"So what happened last night?"

"Torture all around," Hermione replied softly with a dismissive wave of a hand, "just another fun-filled evening at Chez Malfoy."

"All around?"

"Yes, all around. Draco was there. He's done something absolutely stupid from what I can gather and Daddy decided to punish him and me all at once."

"What? Draco was punished?" Lavender was stunned by Hermione's revelation.

"Muggles call it Aversion Therapy, well, at least it's the closest thing I can compare it to."

"Aversion Therapy, what's that?"

"Well, let's start at the beginning here," Hermione frowned as she turned and sat on the window sill, her back to the sunrise. She wasn't sure where to begin, "I swear that Malfoy Sr. thinks Draco is in love with me or something."

"Well, we know he's obsessed with you, but in love with you?" Lavender was incredulous, "he's not capable of love, the little bastard." She shuddered as the effects of the Imperius swept over her for the first time in weeks.

"His father thinks otherwise, and he _has_ been acting awfully strange. Remember last week when I told you he didn't hurt me and seemed more petulant and needy than usual?"

"Yeah," Lavender nodded as she recalled the conversation, "it did seem terribly odd, didn't it?"

"I think he's jealous Professor Snape's been given priority when it comes to me. He was awfully interested in what I thought of him the other night when he did get to see me. The whole evening was bizarre." Hermione shook her head, trying to clear the recollection of the encounter from her mind. She could handle the abuse when it came to Draco Malfoy, as that was to be expected, but she had no idea what to do with this other side of him.

"But why would he be jealous of Snape? You aren't tied to Draco exclusively and you've been given to other Death Eaters to use."

"I really don't know but it did seem like there was a battle of wills going on in that room last night. You'd think Malfoy hated his father, the way he was talking to him."

Lavender frowned at Hermione's observation. "What did he say?"

"When his father told him he'd have to be punished for his obsession with me he told him 'Bring it on, old man,' and then he told him if he was looking for absolution from his sins he wouldn't find it there."

"Wow," was all Lavender could manage to say.

"Malfoy Sr. cast the Imperius curse on his son and the Cruciatus curse too," she watched her friend's eyes widen and mouth drop open, "he used me to torture him, Lavender, after he'd laid a beating on both of us just to get his jollies. He poisoned my touch in Draco's mind with the Imperius and then forced me to have sex with him while he was screaming and writhing and retching on the floor beneath me." Tears sprung to Hermione's eyes as she relived the previous night in her head. "I told him I was sorry for what his father was forcing me to do and I know he understood, I could see it in his eyes. That's funny, don't you think?"

"That you apologised?" Lavender queried and shook her head when Hermione nodded. "No, that's the difference between us and them, Hermione. Even after all you suffered at his hands you were still sorry for what you did to him, though you had no control over it." Lavender reached up and dabbed away the tears that were spilling down her friend's cheek with the sleeve of her faded robe.

"Thanks," Hermione sniffed as she tried to gather herself together, "but that's not the worst of it." Lavender stilled at her words. What could be worse? "When it was all over and Draco was a quivering mess on the floor, his father threw me onto the bed and raped me one way after another in front of him."

"My God," Lavender breathed as Hermione broke down and cried.

"And he leered the whole time he did it, keeping up a running commentary about what I was, and how it's all I'll ever be and the fact that if he didn't have other plans for me he'd have killed me outright in order to teach his son a lesson."

"Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry," Lavender drew her sobbing friend into a hug, smoothing her hair in reassurance as the tears soaked through her worn robes. She was also trying, unsuccessfully, to control her own trembling at the thought of what the coming days had in store for them.

* * *

Severus' head was pounding as he stood under the ice-cold, needle-sharp, spray of the shower. He was still having trouble processing what he'd seen and how he could have witnessed it at all, seeing he was at Hogwarts. He stilled for a moment, head tilted so the cold water could assault his face and wake him up, and concentrated on Hermione. A wave of sorrow, tinged with despair, washed over him and an unvoiced and bitter unhappiness settled deep within him, leeching into his bones.

When he was dried and dressed he went into his sitting room. Fawkes hopped out of his nesting box next to the fireplace and lurched his way ungracefully across the room to stop next to Snape. Severus couldn't help but smile as he looked down on the re-born phoenix. As if it could read his inner turmoil, the little bird puffed out his scruffy, newly grown-in feathers and began to sing. It was just a few short, sweet notes in a new and uncertain voice but it did much to buoy the headmaster's spirits and he knelt down and held out his arm to phoenix.

"Care to go for a visit, Fawkes?" he waited for the bird to hop on his forearm before moving to the fireplace and throwing some floo powder into the fire.

They stepped through into Professor Sprout's quarters and found themselves greeted by a delighted Pomona. "You're up! Did you have anything to eat yet?" Severus shook his head and Pomona clapped. "That's good, I've ordered a little something from the kitchen for us." Just as she spoke a house elf appeared and set a large tray of food down on a small table. She thanked the creature and it disapparated with a large grin on its face.

"A little something? You're either mad or you're expecting the Hufflepuff Quidditch team to join us for breakfast." Severus couldn't believe the amount of food there was on the tray.

"No, it's just the pair of us. You haven't been eating well the past couple of weeks, Severus, don't think I haven't noticed." He flashed her a rueful smile and she suddenly noticed the phoenix. "And, goodness, look who you've brought with you."

She was pleased to see Fawkes looking the healthiest she'd seen him since Dumbledore had died. It was a good sign. She tickled the bird's neck and he nipped her finger affectionately. Severus held his arm out towards the tall back of one of Pomona's armchairs and Fawkes hopped off his forearm to perch there, pulling his neck down into the warmth of his breast feathers before he tucked his head under a wing and promptly fell asleep.

"Where's Albus?" Snape asked and was rewarded with a wide grin.

"There," Sprout pointed to the picture above her fireplace. Snape looked up to find a hilarious scene being played out in the large painting. Albus had fallen asleep against the large log he'd been sitting on earlier. The wood nymph was sitting cross-legged in the lush grass next to him, weaving daisies and buttercups into his long silver beard and hair and she'd obviously been at it for some time already if the number of flowers was anything to go by. Severus couldn't contain the barking laugh that escaped him at the sight. "Thought you'd get a kick out of that," Pomona laughed as she moved to stand in front of the painting. "Albus!" she called, "he's here, wake up!"

The figure in the portrait awoke with a start and the shocked wood nymph bounced to her feet and ran into the trees, snickering and shrieking guiltily. "What's with that silly girl?" Albus asked as he stretched and straightened up. Severus and Pomona just glanced at each other, bit their lips to stifle the laughter, and shrugged.

"How are you, Severus? I've had the distinct feeling that you've been avoiding me the past couple of weeks." The great wizard known as Albus Dumbledore had been reduced to a pale two dimensional facsimile of himself but even so he still had the power to make Snape feel like a guilty little boy, the effect of a beard full of buttercups and daisies notwithstanding.

"I suppose I have, Albus."

"Something important has happened, am I right? You've always made a point of trying to avoid me when it has."

"You know there are precious few things that escape your notice," Severus answered as he turned to take the cup of tea Pomona held out to him. "Can we throw up a few extra wards before I start here?" he asked. Sprout nodded and they cast the necessary charms to ensure complete privacy before settling down in chairs in front of the painting housing the ex-headmaster.

"I've just recently found out a piece of intelligence that I should have gathered 5 months ago and I feel stupid. I should have known all of this a long time ago."

"Severus, does this have anything to do with that potion you needed ingredients for?" Pomona interrupted his self-recrimination.

"Yes," he sighed, "unfortunately, I'm afraid it does."

"Hmm, that doesn't sound good. What happened?"

"Do you remember how many bodies were missing at the end of the last battle?"

"There were quite a lot, if I remember correctly," she replied.

"Well, a score of them aren't missing anymore," Severus explained, "I know where they are. _We_ know where they are."

"But there's a problem, isn't there?" Albus asked. It was a familiar and frustrating script.

"Isn't there always a problem?" Severus answered with a question of his own, thinking of the opening line from the old nursery rhyme, _'Here we go round the mulberry bush.'_

* * *

Harry cracked open an eye and was greeted with his usual morning view of a world sharply out of focus. He thrust a hand out of the covers to quest about on the box of Tesco's tinned tomatoes he'd been using as a night table, smiling when his fingers closed around the frames of his spectacles. The room came into focus as he slipped his glasses on and he lay for a minute, studying the roughly hewn ceiling before finally sitting up and swinging his legs off the end of the bed. He stood up and stepped into the jeans he'd tossed to the side of the cot the night before. He looked down at Padma as he buttoned the waist and zipped the fly and grinned at the sight of her lying primly, covered to her chin under her tightly tucked in blanket. Harry bent over and lifted his own blanket off the floor, depositing it at the bottom of the cot. He'd transfigure it back into his cloak later, if Padma didn't take care of it when she woke up as she often did.

Harry groaned as he went to slip into his trainers and remembered that they'd bounced off in two different directions under the bed. It was too early in the day to be crawling on hands and knees. "Bugger!" he swore, groaning like an old man as he crouched down to fumble under the cot for his shoes. He stopped, head cocked to the side, puzzled, as his fingers came in contact with the smooth side of a box. "Hmmm… what's this then?" he asked himself as he pulled it out from its hiding place.

It was a plain cardboard box, out of the ordinary only because of its contents. It held all the things he and Padma held especially dear. There were photos and bric-a-brac, letters and cards as well as a threadbare, ginger-coloured teddy bear. It was the photo at the top of the box that caught Harry's attention.

The photo had been taken in the Gryffindor common room a few months before the war had begun in earnest. Creevey had snapped it and it was a portrait of all the Gryffindors in Harry's year, along with Padma, who was standing next to her sister in the photo but kept glancing over at Harry and blushing. Harry noticed that his photographic equivalent was doing the same and glancing over at Padma as all the others waved at the camera. That's when they'd realised there was something between them. Harry smiled as the Parvati in the photo turned to look at her sister and realised she was staring at Harry. The sly grin that lit up her face at that moment said it all. There had been nothing Parvati and Lavender had liked better than to play matchmakers. When he thought of all the good-intentioned mischief the pair had gotten into in order to get him and Padma together he couldn't help laugh.

"What's so funny?" Padma asked with a yawn as she swung her legs off her own cot and sat up.

"The way we were caught on film sizing each other up," Harry replied, turning the photograph around so Padma could see what he was talking about, "and the way your sister and Lavender were on to us from the get go. I was just remembering all the tricks they pulled to get us together."

"They were quite the pair weren't they?" Padma replied softly, becoming pensive as she thought about those carefree days before the war that seemed so far away. Harry noticed her mood change and sat down on the bed next to her, propping the box on his lap with one hand as he wrapped an arm around her and hugged her to himself.

"It's alright, Love," Harry murmured, kissing her forehead.

"We can't let them die, Harry," Padma told him, sotto voce, thinking of her dead twin. "We have to get them all out. I'll never be able to live with myself if we lose them too." She looked down at the box on Harry's lap and fished out another photograph, studying yet another picture Colin had taken of them. This time it was a photograph of them exchanging promises and vows in their betrothal ceremony, an event that had taken place two months ago. It had been a joyous occasion but had also been subdued and bittersweet in light of the empty spaces in the circle where friends and family should have stood, sharing their magic and love with the newly betrothed couple.

"We'll get them out. Charlie and his lot will help with the diversion and it'll buy us the time we need to pull down the wards on the brothel without the Death Eaters noticing." He handed her the box on his lap and got back down on his knees to search for his trainers. "Ah, there you are," he stretched as far as he could, but still couldn't touch either of the shoes. "Damn… accio trainers," he intoned, smiling as the shoes flew into his outstretched hand. As he sat on the floor tying his laces, he studied his fiancé from under his dark unruly fringe. She had her sister's threadbare teddy out of the box now and was hugging it tightly to herself, like she often did when she was upset.

"Shall I tell them to keep something warm for you, Love?" he asked her as he stood up.

"There's no need. I'll be there in a few minutes, you go on ahead," she told him as she swiped a tear from her eye with the heel of one hand.

"Are you sure?" Padma nodded at his question and Harry left her to go to the Hall, giving her a moment in private with her grief.

* * *

Draco woke up in his own bed at Malfoy Manor and spent a few minutes studying the heavy velvet canopy of his four-poster bed. He was surprised to find himself there after what had happened the night before. He'd been sure his father would have left him to languish for eternity in the dungeons before letting him back into the house. He moved to sit up and his muscles screamed in protest, causing him to give up and fall back onto the pillow with a groan. He could still taste the unpleasant mixture of blood and bile in his mouth. He ran his tongue over his lips to moisten them and was not surprised to find they were split and swollen. He sighed. He'd really done it this time, hadn't he? The memory of the pain that seared his nerve endings every time Hermione Granger had touched him last night caused his stomach to twist in protest. Of course, he'd gone and done the unthinkable, hadn't he? He'd fallen in love with the Mudblood whore. He wasn't even sure when it had happened, he just knew that he'd crossed the line from lust and obsession to love somehow. He was an absolute idiot.

The door to his room opened and he looked over to see his mother peering around the door, with a worried frown on her face.

"Draco?" she called out softly, as if she was afraid of being heard.

"Come in, Mother," Draco replied, surprised at how ragged his voice sounded in spite of the knowledge that his throat was raw and strained. He watched as she looked over her shoulder into the hallway before slipping through the door and shutting it quietly behind her. "I take it you're not supposed to be here?" he asked, trying for a sneer but not being able to force his ravaged mouth to comply. She shook her head.

"No, I'm not supposed to be here, but your father has gone to the Ministry to take care of some things." Draco wondered if the things that had to be taken care of had anything to do with him at all. "Why did you defy him, Draco?" Narcissa asked as she sat on the end of the bed and looked down at her beautiful son's ruined face. Tears started to well in her eyes.

"Merlin's bloody balls, Mother, it's not as if I set out to do it deliberately," Draco wheezed, lifting a hand to cradle his bruised ribs as he laughed at her question. "Have you ever known me to have such a death wish?" Narcissa shook her head. If anything, self-preservation was Draco's paramount skill.

"Then tell me why this happened? Help me understand," she pleaded.

"Understand what? Wasn't it you who spilled the beans? You've never been able to stand up to him even once, have you?" Draco accused his mother bitterly.

Narcissa looked away, unable to meet his eyes after such a bald statement. It was the truth, though. She had never, in their more than twenty-five-year long relationship, been able to resist her husband and the force of nature that was his personality. She'd found it was much more conducive to peace and quiet to acquiesce to his will and her preferred way had always been the 'Path of Least Resistance'. Bella had always said she was too soft, too complacent and she was right.

"I'm sorry, it's hard to go against his will," she explained by way of apology, "it's part of the fidelity charm he cast on me the night we got married." The charm only served to make her natural submissiveness almost all encompassing where her husband was concerned. It was the first time she'd admitted such a thing. Draco wasn't surprised at the news his father had cast that charm. It wasn't used any more as it was considered to be bordering on dark magic, but he was sure that just about all the Death Eaters' wives were bound to their husbands in that fashion.

"Then why are you here? Shouldn't you be off working at one of your charities? Isn't that what you're always supposed to do when he wants you out of the way?"

"I set out to leave the house more than once but I kept being drawn back here to you," she admitted, "I've always been more rebellious when you're involved for some reason and I really needed to see you." _To make sure you were still alive._ The words hung unspoken in the air between them.

"You'll be in a world of trouble if he finds you here when he returns," Draco pointed out, pleased at what she had said but not about to show it.

"I won't be here when he returns," Narcissa reassured her son.

"I take it I'm not to be healed using magic?" Draco changed the subject, knowing what the answer would be before asking the question.

"Not for the time being. It's part of the 'lesson' he's teaching you, I'm sorry," Narcissa sniffled as Draco shifted to get more comfortable and winced at the pain that accompanied his efforts. "Are you in a lot of pain?" she asked, reaching out to take his hand.

Draco laughed and pressed down on his ribs again with his free hand. He didn't answer the question and suddenly found himself thinking about Granger. What kind of state was she in today if this was how he felt? Narcissa frowned as she watched her son become pensive. She was suddenly terrified by the idea that Draco hadn't learned the lesson his father was trying to teach at all. There was something different about him today, a deeper undercurrent of defiance than there had been, perhaps? The thought triggered her usual self-defence mechanism – denial, avoidance and evasion.

"I'd better leave," she leaned over and kissed Draco on the forehead, "Rose Parkinson and Beatrice Bullstrode are expecting me."

"Goodbye, Mother," Draco answered, watching as Narcissa made her way to the door and opened it quietly, slipping back through it as stealthily as she'd come. He lay for a few moments staring at the door after it closed, but he wasn't seeing it. His mind was replaying the events of last night over again. For the first time in his life the thought of what he and his father had done to Hermione wasn't funny.

* * *

Ron, Bill and Blaise had returned from their shift on the wards to find Ginny in full 'Molly Mode' (as the brothers called it), which meant she was behaving a lot like a drill sergeant, barking directions to the different volunteers who were helping her prepare for the arrival of the prisoners being kept at the brothel. There was so much to do, what with gathering all the supplies and sundries that would be required. No doubt there'd be medicinal potions required. Ron smiled as he saw that Fred and Susan Bones had already been put to work brewing basic restorative draughts and calming potions at one of the tables in the main hall that had been converted into a makeshift potions lab. Trust Ginny to be shrewd enough to know who were the best bets out of everyone here to get each particular job done that needed doing. They might even have to pull Fred from his guard shifts if he proved to be of better use here.

"Oomph…"

Ron stumbled forward, bowled over by a figure carrying a tall pile of sheets and towels. "Bloody Hell!" he exclaimed as he ended up lying face down on the dirt floor of the cavern.

"Sorry, love," Tonks apologised as she looked down at him, cheeks in full blush at her clumsiness. Down here she never used her metamorphmagi powers to change her appearance. Here she was always her true self. Her every day face--the one she was born with--wasn't beautiful, but it was very pleasant. Warm brown eyes glanced quickly over to Fred. "Do you think Harry would let me guard Penny and Neville on their next shift if Fred's still busy making potions?" she asked Ron.

"I haven't a clue, Nymphadora," Ron answered with a shrug as he sat up and started to help gather the fallen sheets and towels, "but don't you think the real question is whether or not you can keep yourself from capsizing the boat and throwing everyone into the drink?"

"Ha ha, very funny, Ron," Tonks glared at him as she folded the towel she was holding, "I'm not that clumsy and you know what I do to people who call me Nymphadora, don't you?" She glowered and Ron grinned at her.

"You know I'm just pulling your chain, Tonks," Ron held his hands up in front of himself. There's Harry now, why don't you go and ask him?" He gestured over his shoulder to the archway where Harry stood taking in what everyone was up to. "I'll finish folding these back up. Where'd Ginny want them?"

"Oh, thanks, Ron," Tonks smiled at him and pointed in the opposite direction, "Over on that table there, with all of the other linens and things. There's a sheet and quill there so you can add them to the tally." Ron saluted her with a smile and got to work, but his face became solemn once she turned away. He was thinking of Lavender, Hermione and the other prisoners again. How badly damaged would they all be? He somehow thought blankets and potions wouldn't be enough. He wasn't sure what would be enough.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks greeted him as she joined him in the archway.

"Hey, Tonks," Harry replied, still surveying the activities in the Hall. "Heh, Ginny's really in her element, isn't she?" Tonks followed his gaze to where Ginny was drafting Blaise and Bill into her service, handing the exhausted duo a small list of tasks to complete before they were allowed to catch some sleep.

"She's been starving for a purpose these past few months, Harry," Tonks pointed out. "You lot have been like a clutch of mother hens where she's concerned. You don't know how much that pissed her off."

"Everyone and their granny knows how much that pissed her off, Tonks," Harry shook his head. "We're talking Ginny here and we all know she's about as subtle as a bludger to the head."

"Well, she's finally glad you've given her something to do. I'm glad too, you know, because being shunted to the sidelines is something the rest of the girls worry about."

Harry looked askance at her, "why would that be?"

"This is the first time in ages they've been assigned anything more interesting than the monthly shopping run to Tesco's. If you want to look at it figuratively, as an ex-Auror calls it, the girls have been doing the desk jobs while all you blokes have been doing the fieldwork."

"Isn't that a bit of a stretch, Tonks?" Harry retorted.

"Not really from their point of view," Tonks answered quietly. "Look, Harry, forget I said anything, all right? I'm just venting because they're always on my case about being the only one who gets regular assignments."

"Well, your innate abilities are indispensable, Tonks, you're our girl on the street. It's moot now that everyone has something to do, unfortunately. I just wish that the thing to get us all off our arses and back to doing some good hadn't had to be this."

"I know what you mean," Tonks agreed, "and while I'm glad they're alive, I'm afraid of what's going to happen."

Harry nodded, understanding, before changing the subject, "now what was it you wanted?"

"Fred's post as guard if he ends up having to stay to make more potions with Susan. I need to do something outside of this bloody warren that doesn't involve tagging around London after miscellaneous, no-name Death Eaters and ducking into doorways and alleys to hide and change my looks when I think they've seen me," she gestured absently around herself, flustered by sounding ungrateful about her previous assignments. At least she had had decent assignments compared to some of the girls.

"I'll check with Ginny to see how much longer they're going to need him for. As for the job, it's kind of cold and boring, really, and not very pleasant when the waves pick up a bit."

"Sounds good to me," Tonks replied with a grin. Harry just shook his head as he moved off to speak to Ginny.

* * *

Severus sat behind his desk in the Headmaster's Office, poring over the weekly incident reports submitted by the Heads of each House. He was behind on the never-ending paperwork that came with the job. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in the hope of warding off the headache that was building behind his eyes. He had been fighting the undercurrent of anger and fear being channelled through the link he'd formed with Hermione through the potion since the moment he'd woken up. Her mood had not improved at all, not that he had expected her to be chipper.

He had spent two hours cloistered in Pomona's rooms with her and Albus, filling them in on what had been going on over the past couple of weeks. Pomona had been indignant that he hadn't shared the burden with them before now. Albus had grown more and more silent and serious with every new detail that Severus had revealed. It wasn't a good sign. With Albus no longer corporeal and Voldemort in charge of things in the Wizarding World, their options were severely limited. He knew that he could rely on Pomona to take on more of the workload for him here at the school for the next week. She'd make excuses for him and cover for his absences and strange hours. It was funny, but he never thought he'd mourn his days of spying back before Voldemort had seized power. His life, though convoluted then, had been much simpler. He felt like he was getting far too old to be playing at all this cloak and dagger stuff. For the first time in a long time, he felt afraid. He knew that Hermione's emotions were feeding his own, but he was worried all the same. There were so many lives at stake. There was far too much to lose. The fear of being tripped up and discovered was eating at his insides. He was going to have to calm down. Right now, there was only one thing that would do that.

He needed to see Hermione. For whatever reason, thanks to the Vestigium Teneo, they had become each other's balm.

* * *

A/N – Sorry this chapter is so late in coming. Real life has been a bitch for the past year. We've had more serious family health problems crop up and I worked a horrendous stint of overtime, which burned me out so much that I hadn't been able to muster up much energy for writing or art. Also, the chapter was almost done but then I went and screwed it up by writing something that didn't work so I had to backtrack and unravel what I'd done. Thanks to everyone for persevering. You're all great.

There are a number of unfinished pieces of artwork that go with this chapter. I only have one to offer up at this time. You can find it here ?id=118418


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